Redemption - Book Two of the Rending Trilogy
by Kentethalion
Summary: Ever since the tragedy of the Siege of Beacon, Yang has fallen apart, isolating herself from her former life. Whenever Blake appears with information related to the Siege, though, Yang's world begins to move again. Old friends resurface, and a dark plot that threatens the very existence of Remnant is uncovered as Yang tries to stitch herself back together, piece by piece
1. Ashes

Ashes

She cupped her hands in front of her mouth and exhaled, breath turning to fog in the frigid air as her second set of ears twitched. She flexed her fingers, trying to work the heat through them and rid herself of the numbness that had settled in her bones. Winter had only just started, and it was already shaping up to be a brutal one. Her breath steamed outward again as she once more attempted to warm her hands up.

She hated the cold. It was bitter and biting, and left her feeling hollow and alone.

At least, that's the way it had been ever since her sun had gone out. Amber eyes rolled and a head of thick black hair shook itself. _Listen to yourself, Blake. You sound like some shitty five-and-dime romance novel. _She pulled her trench coat tighter about herself and shoved her hands in the pockets. As sappy as it was though, she knew that the thought was correct. The cold had only ever begun bothering her since that day.

She narrowed her eyes at the sidewalk at she continued to stride, her boots scuffing lightly on the concrete. It was late, but Vale was not quiet by any means. Plenty of people were bustling to and fro, bundled up against the early Winter chill. Blake didn't spare them a glance, only one goal on her mind. She had already been all over this entire section of the city tonight in pursuit of it too, but thus far had had no luck.

She had checked all the places she had expected to find her target. The bars, the dives, the clubs. None of them had turned up anything. There was only one place left that she could think of. She looked up at shattered moon hanging in the sky as a sigh escaped her.

This was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

The man charged again, and she laughed as she spun around him, slapping the back of his shaven head as she did so. He stumbled before turning to her with a fierce, angry glint in his eyes. At least, she _thought_ it looked angry. The whiskey was making her vision a little blurry, so she couldn't be positive. One thing she was sure of, though, was that her opponent was _huge_. More than six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds of rippling muscle. He was famous in the underground rings. Undefeated, it was said. The alcohol inspired a smirk as she leaned back against the rotten wood that formed the pit they were in; that record ended tonight.

The crowd around her roared as he once again pressed his attack. It seemed to have finally penetrated his thick skull that bull-rushing her wouldn't get him anywhere, though. He was taking this approach much more slowly, fists guarding his chin, eyes watching her carefully. There was a sheen of sweat on his bare chest as he closed the distance between them. His fist flew forward when he got in range. A quick, straight jab with his right fist, like she had expected. She leaned her head to the right a few inches, causing his attack to pass just by her cheek. Her own hand shot out lightning fast, smacking across his face with a resounding _crack_.

He barely seemed to notice, though, as he brought his left arm around, aiming for a devastating hook. Of course, she had seen that coming too. The man was strong, and fairly quick, but she had faced far, far worse enemies than him. She ducked under the fist and circled out behind him, once more cuffing the base of his skull tauntingly before dancing away on bare feet with a laugh. The gravel beneath her feet was harsh and coarse, biting abrasively into her skin, but she didn't care. The alcohol numbed her physical pains better than it did her mental ones. Which was why she was here.

First she had turned to the bottle, and when she had discovered that that hadn't worked, she found herself here, in the pits.

Something about being surrounded by the smell of tobacco and whiskey and the frantic yells as spectators gave and took bets or screamed encouragements and insults at the fighters helped. It took her away from this shitty world that she no longer wanted a part of. It was her escape, her solace, her answer to the questions she didn't want to face.

It was all so far removed from everything she had been, and she told herself that that gave her some degree of comfort.

That was, of course, until she saw a pair of golden eyes watching her from the back of the crowd, and the little isolated fantasy land she had built in her head crumbled to dust once more.

* * *

No sooner had the words passed her lips then the bartender was silently motioning towards a slim, wooden door set in the wall beside the bar. Blake nodded her thanks and moved to it. It was older than most of the rest of the establishment, by the look of it, its blackened surface rife with scratches, dents, and chips. Beyond, she could easily make out the din of a crowd. She drew a deep breath, and then opened the door.

The stairwell was narrow, and steeped in shadows so thick most would have had to fumble their way cautiously to the bottom. But she was not like most, and she had absolutely no trouble seeing the tall, rickety stairs. She pulled the door firmly closed behind her and made her way to the bottom, where another door awaited her on the left. This was one heavier, thicker, a crude iron circle the only thing resembling a means to open it. The air was cooler here, and Blake noted that she must have passed into the buildings foundation; the walls were stone now.

Her hand grasped the metal handle, almost shivering as it seemed to drain the warmth from her skin, and pulled. It took a bit of coaxing, but the heavy wood finally swung open with a groan of protest. She choked down a gag as the stench of cigars and alcohol assaulted her nostrils. The air was warm, but thick and sticky. She felt like she needed gills more than lungs in this place. None of these thoughts showed, her face an impeccable mask. Blake had learned to school her emotions long ago, in what felt like a different lifetime.

Her pupils narrowed, adjusting to the dim, yellowed lighting that permeated the haze, and the ears atop her head twitched as the noise hit her like a wall. Angry and elated shouts filled the air from too many people. The mass of spectators in front of her was like an ocean of skin, sweat, and testosterone, always in motion, always pushing towards the center. She didn't bother trying to press her way through the crowd; it wouldn't have been worth the effort. Instead, she circled the outside of the throng. No one took any note of her, which was something she had no complaints about. Remaining unseen had always been her preference.

Blake kept her eyes trained towards the pit in the center of the stone room. She knew it was there, even if her view was blocked by the wall of flesh and the haze of smoke that hung above them. The back end of the room was raised a good two feet above the rest of it, crudely hewn stone stairs leading up to the dustiest looking bar she had ever seen in her life. Still, she slid gracefully onto one of the barstools, waving off the bartender before he could ask her anything. He grumbled through his gray, bushy moustache and went right on cleaning a filthy glass with an even filthier rag.

There was a good view of the ring from here, and her eyes narrowed as she watched the fight within it. Though, calling it a fight would be like saying an Ursa versus an infant was a fair match. It just wasn't true. It was a one-sided game. She was _toying_ with him. Blake had seen her do it many times before in the time they had known each other. There was a smile on her face, but she could tell that she wasn't actually happy. Blake wasn't even sure if she knew what happy _was_ anymore.

Her body was still muscular and toned. The skin-tight, dark grey shorts and long-sleeved shirt attested to that. Just by watching, though, Blake could tell some of her strength had ebbed away. The fluidity and precision of her movements, too, was gone. Her attacks, open-palmed slaps, were crude and sloppy. Nobody else saw any of this, of course, but nobody else was a professional warrior like she was. Nobody else knew that woman like she did.

There was a bandage on her right arm, a white cloth strip wrapped time and again around her forearm. It disappeared underneath her shirt's sleeve just below her elbow. In the few times Blake had seen her since the Siege, she had never revealed the slightest thing about it, so Blake honestly had no idea just how far up her arm it covered, or what lay underneath of it, though she had a few guesses. Her hair was a bit longer than the last time she had seen her, reaching down to about her shoulder level now. She was still getting used to the sight. The first time Blake had seen it after it had been cut, she had nearly choked in surprise.

When she had asked her why, the response she had gotten was five hollow words,

"It was just another reminder."

She never spoke of it again after that. Then again, she never spoke much at all anymore. Those five words were probably the longest sentence Blake had gotten out of her since the Siege. She watched as she bounced away from her opponent, lilac eyes surveying the room around her while the hulking man cautiously stepped forward. When those orbs settled on her though, she saw them go wide, and surprise and fear flashed through them. Blake felt her stomach sink; it hadn't really been the reaction she had been hoping for. The man approached her, but her eyes were still glued to Blake. As it was, she missed the hand aiming for her throat.

* * *

Only her reflexes saved her. A small flash of movement in the corner of her eye was her only warning. Even with the alcohol buzzing through her system, she managed to juke backward in time to avoid the grasping hand. It wasn't quite fast enough though, and the man caught the crimson scarf wrapped around her neck, tearing it free. The knot had been loose, so the fabric didn't split. She stumbled back a step or two as the noise from the ring of spectators grew deafening; they thought she was on the ropes now.

The man _tsked_ and repositioned himself, once more raising his fists, the right one now firmly grasping the red cloth. She reached a tentative hand up to her collar, as if wanting to confirm that it really was her scarf in the man's grip. Her fingers felt nothing, and her head dropped, a curtain of blonde hair falling over her eyes.

A harsh voice, raspy from lack of use and pulsing with a quiet rage, hissed at him, "Give it back."

The man smiled smugly. "I don't believe ye be in any position to be demanding, lass." With that, his right hand shot forward in another quick straight.

Blake sighed. The man should have just given it back.

Yang Xiao Long was not someone whose anger you wanted to incite.

Her head pulled back, and then she threw it forward, slamming her forehead directly into the approaching fist. There were several loud popping sounds, audible even above the din of the crowd. The man screamed, the cloth slipping from his broken fingers. He slid to his knees, cradling his hand against his stomach, while Yang snatched the scarf from the air. The skin on her forehead had split with the force of the punch, but the blood running down her face looked _pale _in comparison to the crimson of her eyes. She glared down at the cowering man, deliberately and slowly retying the strip of cloth around her neck.

_Oh no._ Blake shifted, her hand darting to her inside breast pocket. She pulled out her scroll and opened the device. Yang had snapped, and Blake had seen what became of those she took her wrath out on. She began typing up a message.

'Requesting a medical team to the following location:'

She put down the bar's address, and her eyes snapped back up to follow Yang.

'_Victim: Middle-aged male.  
Height: 6'8''  
Weight: ~240  
Injuries: Broken fingers on right hand,'_

Yang crouched down, and her left hand cinched around his throat. She hefted him into the air as if he weighed nothing. He gasped, clawing at her arm. The crowd was growing silent now, realizing that things weren't going to end the way they had anticipated. Yang snarled and threw the first fist she had all evening, a brutal right that slammed into the side of the man's face. There was a harsh _cracking_ noise, and Blake fingers flashed across her keyboard.

'_Fractured jaw,'_

A vicious kick slammed into the man's side as he lay groaning on the ground, and he doubled up. A cough rattled from his chest, blood splattering across the ground.

'_Two ribs broken, three fractured,'_

She wasn't done though, and grabbed the man by his shoulders, picked him up, and threw him backward. He crashed into the side of the pit, his head lolling against his chest. Yang spun and slammed the top of her foot into the side of his head. His face hit the gravel, and he was still. The blonde straightened up, twisted on her heel and stalked to the entrance to the pit. One of the men waiting outside numbly slid back the latch and pushed opened the wooden half-door as she approached. He held out a wad of papers to her with shaking hands as she stepped through, and she snatched them without even checking to see if the amounts were correct.

Nobody would _dare_ cheat her after that. Not unless they wanted to be next.

'_Cranial hemorrhaging.'_

Blake hit the send button, and stood from her stool. Yang was nowhere to be seen, already vanished with her winnings. The crowd was beginning to disperse, the shock of the end of the match seemed to have taken away all of the energy from the room. A few of them were gathering around Yang's opponent, trying to shake him awake.

Blake didn't care though. She didn't even check to see if the man was still breathing. The paramedics would be here soon enough, so frankly she didn't really give a damn.

Her only concern was for the woman who had disappeared.

Her partner.

She bit her lip, and a worried whisper passed her lips, "Yang…" Her rage had consumed her, and yet her hair had not shone. No fire had appeared. Not even a single spark. Before, the entire pit would have become a maelstrom of flame. But now there was nothing.

Blake didn't know what she had been expecting. After all, the last time she had seen the barest hint of a flame from her partner had been in the Siege.

Four years ago.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Hello again everyone! and hello for the first time, to all you new readers tuning in (if there are any of you)!

The Rending Trilogy is back!

What did we all think of the first chapter?

I know, time skip's are cliche, but I have so many fun things planned, and so much shit went down in the interim that I look forward to revealing. Anyway, I hope you all didn't go too crazy waiting for this next installment, and I certainly hope you're as excited about this as I am :D

Oh, also, before I forget. A few of you are probably already aware of this, but I have posted both Yang and Blake's designs up on my deviantart account over this way (**I forgot FF doesn't allow links, see edit**). Please feel free to check them out (I'm particularly proud of Blake)

Until the next chapter, my friends! Welcome back, and happy readings!

***edit: **so since FF doesn't allow links in the story, I now realize that the link I had to my deviantart with Yang and Blake's designs was just some empty parentheses (oops). Anyway, if you are interested in checking out the designs, my deviantart username is the same as my FF one. Kentethalion


	2. Broken

Broken

Blake found her sitting at the bar up top, three shot glasses full of a brown liquid arrayed on the wooden surface before her. As the faunus approached, she knocked back one of the shots, her face impressively impassive throughout the action. Blake's eyes darted around the room, taking note of the half-full booths set against the wall, and the three other patrons set up at the bar as well. Looked like she wouldn't have to worry about prying eyes at least, though the lack of noise coverage meant this conversation was going to have to be quiet.

What she had to tell Yang wasn't really intended for the public's ear.

The faunus slid onto the barstool beside the blonde. There was a small bandage covering the injury on her forehead, and she now had on the rest of her outfit. A dark brown jacket with sleeves rolled above her elbows, a white, cloth skirt that ran from in front of her right leg around to the middle of her back, and a pair of worn leather boots. Her entire outfit was much more somber than her old combat attire. Her shorts were longer, and her undershirt now covered her cleavage entirely. The only color to the whole thing was her scarf and the elastic orange fabric hugging around her left calf. It was all so muted, so dead. So _not Yang._

It had been four years, and Blake was still having trouble coming to terms with just how much her partner had changed. _But that's why I'm here_, she thought, narrowing her eyes at a particular scratch in the bar as Yang dropped another shot. Her thinking was quickly interrupted as her companion growled a question.

"Why are you here?"

Her eyes snapped up to Yang's face, though the brawler wasn't looking at her.

"I'm here for _you_." Yang snorted, the unsaid message clear as day. _Obviously. _"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. I've been running back-to-back missions and-" Blake stopped, realizing that she was rambling. She swallowed. "How have you been?"

She cast Blake a sideways glance, and Blake almost shuddered at how _cold_ her gaze was. She didn't think she'd ever get used to that look. Not whenever it was directed at her. Yang didn't answer, instead knocking back the last shot. She raised her hand, making a subtle motion at the bartender, and he nodded at her before reaching under the counter and pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

"You're hurt," Blake stated, seeing the knuckles on Yang's right hand had split open from her earlier fight. "Here," she reached forward, gently taking Yang's hand in both of hers, "let me-"

Yang snatched her hand away from her partner, glaring at her with red-tinted eyes. "Blake, _why are you here?" _she hissed. The bartender calmly set the fresh shot before her as Blake bowed her head silently. Yang grabbed the glass and brought it to her mouth.

It froze on her lips, though, at Blake's next words. "We found Roman."

Yang gently set the alcohol back down, her eyes boring holes in the bar. "Where?"

Blake shook her head. "No."

Yang looked up angrily, eyes now a deep crimson. "Blake-" she started through clenched teeth before Blake interrupted her.

"I'm not telling you where he is." Yang inhaled, clearly about to fly off on her, but Blake continued. "If I do, you're just gonna run straight at him and get yourself killed. I am _not_ telling you."

Yang slammed her fist down on the counter. "Then why the _fuck_ are you even here!"

Blake miraculously managed to keep her face calm and her voice level, despite how deeply those words cut her. "I'm here to tell you to we're going after him tomorrow."

Yang snorted. "Good luck with that." She turned back to the bar and picked up her shot. "If you're done, you can just see yourself out now."

Blake's hand clamped down on her upper arm. Yang sent her a warning glare, but she matched it with one of her own. She hadn't come all the way here just to be dismissed like that. "I feel like you've misunderstood something, Yang." She saw some of the anger drain from her face. "When I say _we're_ going after him, I don't mean Beacon. I mean me," she pointed a finger at herself before moving it to indicate Yang, "and you. _Us. _You and I are going after Roman tomorrow. So no, I will not tell you where he is, not tonight." She released the blonde's arm. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow. There's no way I'm giving you any chance to run off on your own. Not again."

Yang was silent for a minute. Then she grunted and tossed back the final shot. She slapped some lien on the counter and slid from her seat, making her way to the exit.

"RDA. 9AM," Blake called to her as she pushed through the double doors. And then she was gone.

Blake turned back to the bar and waved at the bartender. "Flightless Nevermore. Double." As the man set about mixing her drink, Blake allowed her shoulders to slump and a sigh to escape her lips. She hoped that this had been the right decision.

* * *

Yang jiggled the key in the lock, hissing in frustration when the damned thing still refused to turn.

_Fuck it._

She lashed out with her foot and was greeted with the sound of splintering wood_. _She stalked into the small, dingy apartment, glaring at the destroyed doorframe as she did so. _I'll deal with it later._ Yang wasn't normally so explosively angry, but that lock had been tormenting her for weeks, and Blake's unwelcome visit had set her on edge. The faunus was the only one who still came to check up on Yang. Weiss had never come by, and everybody else had only dropped in once or twice. Blake was the only one who had kept coming all four years, though. She only showed up every few months, which was fine with Yang. If she had her way, her ex-partner would never come to see her. She was far too vivid a reminder of the very world Yang had fought tooth and nail to leave behind. Blake's visits always drove a deep shard of despair and pain into what remained of her heart. They left her feeling hollow.

Yet, at the same time, she was _excited._ For the first time since her return to Vale over three years ago, she felt something like anticipation coiling in her stomach. At last, she could go back on the hunt. She could go after the ones who had destroyed her life again. Find them. Hurt them. _Break _them.

There was a switch next to the door, and as she flipped it, a weak bulb spluttered to life above her, casting eerie shadows over the enclosure. She walked into the living area, one of the four rooms that made up the decrepit apartment. The other three were a bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and an uncomfortably small kitchen which she rarely used. Furniture was sparse, only a sunken couch and an old, beaten coffee table stood in the living room. A thick layer of dust laid over everything, and small piles of clothes lay crumbled in several places. The sorry state of her apartment didn't really matter to Yang; she was barely even here. It was just a cheap place to store her things.

She moved into the bedroom, not even sparing the thin, lumpy mattress then rested in the corner a glance. She had picked it up mostly for appearance's sake, as she was more accustomed to sleeping on bars and benches these days. Besides, she had learned quickly after the Siege that restful sleep was no longer a commodity she was afforded. There was a small closet set in the wall opposite the mattress, and it was there that Yang's goal lay.

She reached up to the shelf spanning the width of the space, hands fumbling around, searching. A few boxes got in her way, and she tossed them over her shoulder without a second thought, spilling their contents onto the floor. Papers, trinkets, and supplies spilled out from the cap-sized containers, but Yang didn't care. Her lilac eyes were wide, peering into the shadows hiding the shelf's contents. Her heart hammered in her chest and she could hear her blood pounding in her ears. She could feel her hands tremble slightly as she continued her search.

_Giddiness._

Was she really that excited for this? It seemed that way, but she wasn't sure if it was strictly excitement that was doing this to her. She could already feel some bad memories stirring, and she could tell that it was probably only going to get worse whenever they went after Roman. So anxiety, too, probably had a lot to do with it. But it didn't matter, 'cause this was her chance to finish what she started. To avenge her sister and finish cutting every single attachment she had left to this life.

Her frenzied thoughts quieted as her hands brushed against a cool, hard surface. She ran her fingers along the edge, and she grasped it by the handle when they found it. A few object spilled to the floor as she pulled the dark wood case from its hiding place. Yang held it before her in both arms and blew lightly across the top of it, causing a maelstrom of dust to fly off into the air. There was still a thick layer of the stuff resting on it; she hadn't touched this, nor its contents, in years. She walked to the bed and set the case down, kneeling on the floor before it.

There was a golden combination lock on the front, nestled beside the leather-fitted handle. Four numbers. Her fingers flew across the lock, inputting the numbers with a practiced ease, and there was a soft _cha-chick_ as the internal catches released themselves. Yang opened the case, taking a deep breath of the musty, stale air within. There, nestled amongst the foam and felt within, were her weapons.

"Hey there, Ember," she whispered as she gently stroked of one of the yellow gauntlets. "Looks like we'll be going on one last mission." She glanced at the dings, dents and scrapes that littered the both of them, and at the black scorch marks that still marred the right one's surface. "I promise this is the final one. We'll be done after this." She removed both of the gauntlets from there resting place and slipped them onto her wrists. The weight was familiar and yet entirely foreign at the same time. It had been so long. She threw her arms back, and Ember Celica unfolded, with more than one or two unwanted creaks and groans.

Yang stared down at the gauntlets. "Yeah," she murmured, "this will be the final one."

* * *

Blake walked out of the bathroom, finishing tying the knot in the red cloth wrapped around her left wrist. Her thin, black robe was tied loosely about her waist with a silk sash. A wave of steam followed her out into her bedroom. She sighed and pulled the towel off from around her neck, tossing it over her shoulder into the hamper in the bathroom. She slid onto the bed, slumping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.

She could've gone back to Beacon for the night, but her apartment was closer. And besides, if Ozpin found out what she had done, he would be anything but pleased with her. Provided she managed to avoid any conversations with either him or Glynda before the mission tomorrow, she'd be fine.

"Yang," she breathed, as thoughts of her partner filled her mind. She wouldn't lie: it hurt, seeing Yang. Seeing the fear and pain in her eyes every time she saw Blake's face. It hurt a lot, and it had every time she had checked up on her throughout the years since the Siege. It was awful, seeing her waste away like she was. Every time she saw the blonde, she was a bit thinner, a bit gaunter. Her eyes were more sunken, surrounded by dark circles from lack of sleep. The worst, though, was the look in those lilac orbs. She hadn't really thought it possible after the Siege, but more and more life seemed to be draining from her irises. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before the woman she had known disappeared entirely.

_No,_ she thought as she laid the back of her hand across her forehead and closed her eyes, _she might already be gone. I may have lost her a long time ago._ Golden eyes opened again. That didn't mean she was gonna give up though. She had made the decision to bring Yang along on this mission not just because she deserved a shot at Roman more than anyone, but because Blake was hoping this might jolt her back into existence. It might somehow bring out a bit of the old Yang. At least, that's what Blake was hoping. Honestly, this was her last try, her final chance. After this, she had no idea what she could do for her. She had done everything else she think of, and nothing had proved effective.

She sat up as she felt her stomach drop. Unfortunately, over-stressing herself about things was a bad habit she had developed in these fours years. She knew it well, but that didn't prevent her from succumbing to it. Equally as unfortunate, it seemed only another bad habit she had picked up could quiet her raging thoughts. Blake stood and walked around her bed. She snatched a small pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her nightstand and made her way to the sliding glass doors that separated her room from the balcony. She pulled open the door and took a deep, refreshing breath of the frigid air.

Blake tapped the cardboard box against her open palm before sliding a cigarette out and clenching it between her teeth. Her thumb flicked open the lighter's top before striking the flint, and a flame sparked to life. She preferred these old fuel-based lighters as opposed to the newer Dust ones, no matter how much her teammate sang their praises. Once the cigarette was lit, she shook the lighter closed and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke scorch its way into her lungs. Her nerves began to calm, and she exhaled, leaning against the stone railing that came up to her waist. A slight breeze blew by, tousling her still damp hair and carrying away the smoke.

A small smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth as she remembered the shitstorm that had ensued the first time Weiss had caught her smoking. The heiress had practically exploded with rage, and even after she had calmed down a few days later, she and Velvet had still given Blake a scathing lecture on taking care of her body. She had apologized then, and assured them she would quit. She was sure they knew that she was lying, but it seemed to satisfy them. Blake was just careful to only do it when they weren't around after that. Though, to be fair, she did start limiting the amount of times she smoked after that, saving it only for when she really needed to calm herself.

Normally on nights like this, after seeing Yang.

With tired eyes, she watched the tapestry of the city lights spreading out before her. One of the advantages to having an apartment on the twentieth floor, she could see everything. The green lights of Beacon winked in the distance, and Blake had to take another drag to suppress the choking feeling that threatened to crawl up her throat. Being with Yang always brought these feelings screaming back to the front of her mind. Her sleep was probably going to haunted by visions of Deathstalkers and little girls wrapped in cloaks of crimson blood tonight.

Golden eyes fell to the red cloth encircling her wrist.

She touched it gently with her right hand, and a small, humorless, _hopeless_ smile curved her mouth.

_Hey, Ruby, if you were here, what would you say? What would you think of what we've all become? I've done what I could, but I don't think it's enough. I don't think it ever will be. If it was you, you'd be able to fix us all, wouldn't you?_

Blake drew on the cigarette one final time before flicking the butt out into the void. She turned to go back inside, but stopped for moment, her head bowed.

"Hey...Ruby..." she whispered, "I'm sorry."

The only reply was the soft howl of the wind, quietly whisking her words away into the night, and Blake stepped inside, eyes stinging from more than just the cold.

* * *

**A/N: **And there we have Chapter 2!

Not gonna lie, this one _hurt_ to write at several points. Like, really, really hurt. So I kinda feel you guys, and I'm kinda sorry, but I'm not gonna stop

Also, before I forget ('cause I totally did in chapter 1) this Book's theme is 'Red Like Roses, Pt. II'. which if think about it, is probably really, really obvious, hahah

For those of you who've reviewed, favorited, and followed already, thank you so much! you are amazing and I love you ^_^

Also, for those of you who reviewed (quite a number of you, which makes me so fucking happy), you've already gotten the first taste of this, but I'm trying something new. I'm going to endeavor to respond to every review I get on this story, even if it's just to say thank you. I've never really gotten into replying to reviews, but you guys are so awesome and I really wanna respond to your enthusiasm with my story and the pure excitement you show. It might take me a few days, but I will do my absolute best to respond to everyone (unless you don't wish me too, in which case just let me know, and I'll understand)

Anyway, please let me know what you guys thought! I dropped a few hints about things that have occurred in the time skip in this chapter, and at least one reveal is coming next chapter (one I've been anticipating for awhile now) so look forward to that!


	3. Ashfall

Ashfall

Blake stepped out of the cab, breath fogging up the air in front of her. She turned and handed some lien to the driver before wishing him a good day. As the bright yellow vehicle drove off, Blake looked up at the building she stood in front of.

The Residential District Airfield, or the RDA as it was more often referred to, was not a very large establishment. Set on the outskirts of the Vale's Residential District, only two floors high, and spanning the length of a city block, it was a far cry from any real airfields. It was used primarily for recreational and private flights, and there was actually a limit of the size of vehicle that could utilize the facilities. It was never terribly busy for those very reasons, something that suited Blake just fine. Ozpin had offered her full and unconditional use of Beacon's airdock, but Blake hardly ever took him up on it. She tended to avoid that part of the school; there were too many awful memories tied to it.

Thus, the RDA had become her primary travel hub. It was here that her personal airship, the _Shadowswift_, was housed. Well, she said it was hers. Technically it belonged to Beacon, seeing as they paid for it and all of its maintenance, but for all intents and purposes, Blake owned it. She was fully in charge of it, at any rate, and the small crew obeyed her orders unswervingly.

Blake pushed open the glass door in front of her, sighing as a rush of warm air caressed her cheeks. The inside was much better looking than the outside. The ceiling above was constructed entirely out of glass, letting in what little light escaped from the gray, overcast skies above. The walls were an off white, and the floor was covered in a dark grey carpet. Set a third of the way along the wall opposite the entrance was a long desk, and sitting behind it was a middle-aged man and woman, each looking distinctly bored as they typed at the holographic displays in front of them.

There were red-painted doors set in the same wall as the desk, and a few sad-looking potted plants stuffed into the room's corners. Other than that and the benches that ran along the wall to her right and left, the large room was bare. Today was another dead day for the RDA, Blake noted as she crossed to the desk. The only other people she could see was a young couple sitting on the one of the benches. They seemed to be waiting for someone though, and were both engrossed in their scrolls. There was no sign of Yang, and Blake felt a small pit of worry form in her stomach. She glanced at the clock set high on the wall behind the desk. 9:07. What if she decided not to show?

The man behind the counter looked up as she approached, and a small smile slid onto his face.

"Good morning, Miss Belladonna." She was the closest thing this airfield had to a regular customer, and as such she had gotten on fairly good terms with most of the staff.

She returned his smile. "Good morning, Mike. And how many times must I tell you to call me Blake?" She inclined her head toward the woman, "Good morning, Sonya." Sonya gave her a half-hearted wave in response.

"You'll have to forgive her today, Miss- Blake. She didn't get a whole of sleep last night, apparently."

"That makes two of us then."

"Bad night?"

"You could say that." _Nightmares full of blood and fire._

"Professor Ozpin called ahead. We've got the _Swift_ all fueled up and ready to go. Where are ya off to this time?"

Blake shook her head. "Sorry, Mike. You know I can't discuss details."

He sighed through his smile. "It was worth a shot. Anyway, your crew's all onboard and ready for departure. We've got no flights coming in or out besides yourself, so you're clear for takeoff when you're ready."

"Thanks, Mike."

His face turned contemplative and he rested his chin in his head. "Gotta say, this is the first time in the two years you've been coming here that I've seen you traveling with someone."

Blake's ears perked up. "Yang? She's here?"

"I dunno what her name was," Mike said as he shook his head. "Didn't say. Just stormed in here awhile ago and _demanded_ to know where you were going, as if we'd have any clue. She was rather…"

"Bitchy," Sonya provided whenever Mike failed to find the right words.

He shot her a look, but she didn't turn away from her screen. "I was gonna say _surly_."

The faunus took another look around the building, but still didn't see her partner. "So where is she?"

"I had to chase her outside," Sonya intoned, jerking a thumb over her shoulder toward the doors leading out to the field. "She had alcohol. What patrons do during the flight is none of our business, but you know we don't allow that stuff in here."

Blake pinched the bridge of her nose, letting a sigh escape her lips as she felt relief and dread sink in her stomach in equal parts. This was going to be a long mission. She opened her eyes. "Thank you both. I'll be sure to talk to her about it." She turned and made her way to the large doors that opened onto the tarmac.

Mike waved at her and shot her a cheery smile. "Have a safe trip, Blake."

Blake raised her hand in farewell before shouldering open the double-doors. "A safe trip," she breathed. "Not likely." The cold immediately cut through her trench coat, prompting her to pull it just a bit tighter around herself. Her eyes scanned the airfield. On the far side were three massive hangers, their towering metal doors shut against the cold. There were no strips of blacktop to be found here, since airships didn't require them for either liftoff or landing. Instead, there were six large, paved circles arrayed in a square, scoured smooth and scorched black from engine exhaust. Only one was occupied right now, and that was where Blake started walking.

She couldn't help but admire her ship as she got closer. The _Shadowswift_ was not especially large, only 50 meters from end to end and just two decks high. Blake supposed that was to her advantage though, the small size required only a minimal crew, and it meant the vessel ran quiet and fast, which was exactly how she preferred to operate. The model was similar to the one used by Roman to escape from the Siege of Beacon, though hers was sleeker and featured a whole slew of hidden weaponry. The hull was painted matte black with gray trim, and the windows of the bridge, nestled on the very top of the airship, were dark-tinted. Blake smiled warmly. This ship had gotten her out of plenty of tight situations over the past two years.

There was a man in a black uniform waiting beside the cargo ramp at the back of the ship, a faintly glowing tablet resting in the crook of his arm. Whenever he heard the clacking of her approaching heels, he looked up and immediately snapped to attention with a salute.

"Agent Belladonna."

She nodded at him, and he relaxed. "Good morning, Captain Reynolds. How's the _Swift_ today?"

Reynolds was young, not yet even thirty, but according to Ozpin, he was the best airship captain out there. Blake had to admit, she could find nothing to contradict that statement. The man towered over her by a whole head, but he never seemed to be looking down at her. That, coupled with his ability to swiftly and accurately follow orders had quickly seen him on Blake's good side. His small, handpicked crew adored him, and the synergy they all had as a team insured that Blake's missions went as smoothly as possible. He even had a sense of humor, something her life had been sorely missing since the Siege.

"Humming like an angel. She's as ready to go as we are." He ran a hand through well-kept, dark hair with a sigh before continuing. "Your guest, though, not so much."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "What did she do?"

"She appeared out of nowhere as we were loading the last of the supplies and barraged us with questions about the mission."

Blake felt her chest clench. "What'd you tell her?"

He gave her a wry smile. "It's been two years, Blake. You think you would've learned to trust us by now."

She deflated a bit. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I was kidding, Blake." He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I understand, it's alright." He retracted his arm before turning and starting up the ramp, Blake following after him. "We told her that she would have to wait for you to arrive to get the mission details." She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Started getting awful angry when we wouldn't give her any information too. Looked like she was about to put Rudgers in the infirmary whenever I showed up."

"Glad it didn't come to that. Good weapon specialists are hard to come by these days."

"You're telling me. Anyway, she's waiting up on deck for you."

Blake nodded. "Alright. Go ahead and get us in the air. You already know our destination. I'll meet you on the bridge once I've talked with her."

The captain gave her one more salute before climbing into the lift at the back of the cargo bay. Blake continued out the door at the rear, which led her into the prep room and supply storage. After that was the infirmary, which took up the front belly of the _Shadowswift._ She cut up the stairs to the right entrance though, taking her to the second floor. To her left was the common area, and beyond that, the crew quarters. To her right was the fully furnished dining area, stocked to the brim with all the essential foodstuffs. Sometimes her missions could run for months, and she didn't believe in such a thing as being too prepared.

Blake crossed the hallway, climbing a few more steps before the staircase cut sharply to the right, climbing up to a metal trapdoor. She took a deep breath, internally steeling herself for what was sure to be another painful conversation, and opened the hatch. On either side of the ship, two engines fired up with faint whines as she stepped onto the deck. The bridge rose to her right, dwarfing half of the open space by itself. There was still plenty of moving room in front of it though.

It was there that Blake spotted Yang. She was leaning back against the waist-high railing that ran around the deck's perimeter, a flask in hand and hair blowing gently as the _Shadowswift_ lifted off from its landing pad. As Blake walked to her, she watched Yang take a swig from her flask, then screw it shut and tuck it away in a pouch on her hip, presumably empty.

"I didn't bring you on this mission for you to get drunk. I need you sober." Yang crossed her arms, mouth pressed in a line. Blake gritted her teeth. This was off to a great start. "While you're onboard the _Shadowswift, _no more drinking, Yang. Clear?" The blonde shrugged. That was probably the best Blake was going to get. She stepped forward and rested her elbows on the railing, watching as the landscape became a blur beneath them. The faunus turned to Yang. "I think it's about time we talk, now that we're underway."

Lilac eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh, don't give me that look. You think I wouldn't notice that you asked both the airfield staff _and_ my crew about where we were going? I had to wait until we were in the air, otherwise you'd have taken that information and jetted off on your own again. I'm not an idiot, Yang."

"Do you want a gold star?" Yang growled. "Fucking get on with it."

Blake bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a retort. _Patience, Blake. Patience._ "Ashfall."

That single word had a resounding effect on Yang, and Blake watched as some of the anger in her eyes faded away to be replaced by apprehension and fear. "What?"

"We're heading to Ashfall. I believe you're familiar with it?"

Yang's lip pulled back in a snarl. "You know damn well I am."

Blake nodded. "It was known by a different name in the past. I wanted to be sure we were on the same page."

"Ashwood…" Yang breathed.

Blake turned to the horizon. "A week ago, a team of Beacon operatives infiltrated and destroyed an enemy base hidden on Patch. It was a small, probably just an outpost, but we couldn't have been more lucky. We recovered a message sent from Roman, and after tracing it, we found it originated in northern Vacuo, from Ashfall. It's the only hard lead we've had on him since the Siege."

Yang felt her stomach roiling, and this time she knew it was from more than the anticipation of finding Roman. She wasn't sure if was a horrible coincidence or some sick, twisted sort of providence that Roman had holed himself up in Ashfall. She had never been there herself, but she familiar with it the same way Blake was, through Ruby. They had all heard her story, they knew what had happened. Ever since that tragedy, the ruins of the town had been renamed Ashfall because the fires that broken out that night had rained down nothing but ash for days. She gripped the railing tightly as her heartbeat increased.

Ruby's face appeared in her mind, and Yang once more felt a yawning abyss open in her chest. Bile rose in her throat as she remembered her sister engulfed in flame, a huge hole through her torso. She swallowed it down, though, forcing the faint trembling in her limbs to cease. This was not the time to fall apart. Once this was all over, once Roman had paid for what he had done, then she could let go. After all, when this was finished, whatever meaning left to her existence would be finished as well.

Yes, just as long as she got to Roman.

"I'll kill him," she said quietly, causing Blake to turn her head to look at her. Yang's right hand clenched the red scarf around her neck so hard her knuckles turned white. "I will kill him the same way I did Cinder."

A shiver traveled up Blake's spine at the sheer _bloodlust_ that dripped off of every syllable in those words. She had to pick her next words carefully if she didn't want that rage directed at her. "I…can't let you do that, Yang." Crimson eyes snapped up to meet golden ones, and Yang's mouth was halfway open before Blake continued, "We need information from him. Information about the organization he works for. The group behind the Siege."

Yang froze. "The group…?"

The brunette sighed and ran a hand through raven locks. "It wasn't just Roman and Cinder behind the attack on Beacon, we've discovered. There is some larger group behind them pulling all of the strings. We don't know who they are or what they're after. We've got next to nothing on them. The only lead we've got is Roman, and we've only got that through lucky timing." Blake crossed her arms and tilted her head up. "If we lose him, then we lose any and all hope of getting these guys." She fixed her with a hard stare. "And the ones responsible for Ruby's death get away."

Yang's brain was whirring, trying to process this new information. There was an entire _group_ responsible for the Siege? It wasn't just Cinder and Roman? What did this mean for her? _The only thing it means is that you've got more targets now_, a voice sounded in her head. _Kill them _all.

She glanced up to find Blake studying her. "What do you know about them?"

"Like I said, not a whole lot. A few of us have been operating under Ozpin's personal command to try and root out and dismantle the organization, but so far we've only scratched the surface."

Yang made a noise in the back of her throat at the mention of Beacon's headmaster. "Why are you still taking orders from that bastard?" she spat. As far as she was concerned, Ozpin was just as responsible for Ruby's death as Roman. "I'm actually amazed he let you bring me along."

"He didn't. I decided to bring you on by myself. There's no one else on Remnant who is more motivated to bring Roman down, nor anyone who deserves a shot at him more than you. And," she added in a quiet voice, "there's no one else I trust to have my back." The blonde didn't react, but Blake pushed on regardless. "We need that information from Roman. After we get it, though…I really don't care what happens to him." That _did_ get a reaction, as Yang's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Ruby was my friend as much as she was your sister," Blake explained quietly. "You're not the only one who wants to see him pay for what he's done, and if promising you his life ensures your support, then it's a small price to pay."

She had once been a girl with a firm belief in the value of life, but that had changed. The world had twice stripped her of hope and happiness. There was no way in hell she was letting it happen a third time, even if that meant sacrificing some of her morals.

Yang stared at her in silence before giving her a slight nod, and internally Blake sighed in relief. She had been so afraid that she wouldn't be able to convince Yang to spare Roman, but it appeared as though she had managed that, at least. Maybe she _was_ getting through to her partner.

Blake wasn't sure what prompted her next words. Maybe it was some demented hope, or a desperate desire to see _her_ Yang again. Whatever the reason, her thoughts were spilling from her lips before she could even think to stop them.

"Yang, when this is done, do you want to come back to Beacon with me?" The blonde stiffened, lilac eyes widening with surprise.

Yang bowed her head and spoke in a low voice, "Why?"

Blake swallowed, deciding at this point that she might as well press on. "You could become an operative like me. We could go after them toge-"

"No. I mean, _why?_"

"I…I want to _help_ you, Yang." Blake's voice cracked slightly, and she silently cursed herself for it. "I can't stand seeing you like this anymore."

She was silent for a moment, and Yang gripped the scarf around her neck with two fingers, pulling it further up her face. When her voice came again, there was a sharp anger lying underneath. "Then stop looking."

"Yang-"

"Can you bring back my sister?"

Her voice was so cold and emotionless, so _dead_, that Blake felt part of herself break. She answered quietly as her eyes fell to the deck, "No."

"Then the only thing you can do for me is take me to Roman."

Yang levered herself off of the railing and walked across the deck without sparing Blake a second glance. She disappeared into the ship whenever she reached the hatch.

Blake was left alone, shivering in the cold wind, Yang's final words echoing bitingly in her head.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello hello, my friends, what'd we all think of chapter 3? This one felt a little weird for me, but I hope it came out okay

Sorry this one was a bit late. I had hoped to put it up no later than Wednesday, but the past week was unbelievably busy, and I ended up having to do a bunch of overtime, which, as you can imagine, cuts into my writing time.

Anyway, the first reveal! Cinder's fate! Betcha didn't see that one coming, did ya? Cinder is dead (very), and if you're wondering how/what happened with her and Yang and everything, that'll be coming along in the not so distant future.

I love all of you, seriously. The amount of support and reviews and stuff I'm getting for this story makes me really happy. You guys make this story one of the things I look forward to the most :)

Next chapter we're gonna be getting some more action, so get yourselves pumped for that. (and some heartbreak too, for those sadists out there)

Until next time, my friends!


	4. Almost

Almost

Blake exhaled slowly, concentrating on controlling her Aura to form a thin layer around her body, blocking out the biting wind that had been chilling her through. She had shed her trench coat whenever she and Yang had left the _Shadowswift_, and her combat gear wasn't exactly built to withstand the Winter in northern Vacuo. A gray, sleeveless cotton undershirt, a dark leather chest armor piece, a black ankle-length skirt, and purple leggings tucked into gray thigh-high boots with gold trim did not exactly meet the standard requirements for not dying of hypothermia. Hell, she didn't have sleeves. The closest things she had were a shoulder guard and forearm covering on her left arm, and a long, black leather strap wrapped haphazardly up her right one.

She sighed internally in relief whenever warmth began to flow back into her extremities. She didn't even care that she was burning some extra Aura right now. It was worth it.

Blake's eyes slid to the side, taking in her companion, trudging through the ankle-deep snow in front of her without a word. Even with as much skin as her combat outfit exposed, Yang seemed entirely unperturbed by the freezing temperature. Her head was bowed, face buried deep in the crimson scarf. Her breath misted through the material, but other than that, there was no indication that the blonde was even remotely cold. Her Aura may not be working correctly, but it seemed her body would always burn hot. Blake had to admit that she deeply envied that trait right now.

It had barely been twenty minutes since they had departed the airship, and already she had had to resort to her Aura to keep the chill away. She had always been sensitive to cold, and it had only gotten worse in the past four years. They had a long day ahead of them, and being freezing didn't exactly give it a good start.

Blake had ordered Captain Reynolds to put the _Shadowswift_ down several miles from their destination. She didn't want to risk Roman picking her up on sensors or spotting them. It would be safer to approach the objective on foot. From there she and Yang had set out by themselves. The captain had offered to send Rudgers or Britain along with them, but Blake had declined. This needed to be just the two of them, she had said. The less people involved, the better. They'd be fine.

Of course, that had been part of the reason. While it was true that the chance of discovery was smaller the less of them there were, it was also true that the two of them might not be enough to properly handle the situation should things go south. Blake had the utmost confidence in her skills as a Huntress and a Beacon operative. What she didn't have confidence in, at least not anymore, was her partner's skills. Yang had been so long removed from the constant world of battles and training that Blake existed in, and she couldn't accurately gauge just how far her abilities had slipped in that interim. She already knew Yang was weaker than she had been, she just couldn't say by how much.

As it was, though, bringing along another member of the crew would have just made things worse. Blake had noticed it in the day's travel time it took to get to Vacuo, but Yang did not play well with others. She steadfastly avoided contact with the _Shadowswift'_s crew members, choosing instead to hole herself up in her cabin. At meals she showed up, grabbed her portion of the food, and then vanished, returning only after everyone else had finished to place her dishes in the washer.

The only person it seemed Yang had been willing to be in the same room with was Blake. If anyone else approached her or tried to interact with her, she would fix them with a glare and remain silent. If they continued to press her, she was liable to snap. Poor Rudgers had almost landed himself in the infirmary _again_ after repeatedly asking if there was anything he could do for her. Fortunately, a quick shadow step on Blake's part had gotten her between them in time to stop the fist flying for his face. The weapons specialist was a giant softie with a huge heart who didn't know any better. He honestly and sincerely just wanted to help her. After that incident, though, Blake had been sure to impress upon him exactly _what_ Yang could do to him should he incur her wrath. Referencing the Ursa's face she tore off in the final clash four years previous seemed to have gotten the message across as, thankfully, there had been no more problems between her partner and her crew for the rest of the short journey.

So here they were, the two of them, trekking through the northern hills of Vacuo beneath a grey sky. Light flurries flitted about them, gently kissing her cheeks before melting out of existence. Blake had to say, despite the less than stellar circumstances she found herself in, this place was beautiful. They were currently making their way across the top of a particularly towering plateau. Beneath them on their sides stretched miles of forest. Soaring pines dominated the view in waves of green, though she spotted a few twisted oaks or maples pushing through the canopy, their branches bare and dead for the winter. Off to the right, the trees ran as far as the eye could see, covering the gently sloping hills that made up the landscape in that direction.

The front, though, is what truly drew her eyes. A huge mountain range dwarfed the horizon, great monoliths of sharp, grey stone whose white-capped peaks disappeared into the clouds above. It curved along their left, vanishing into the distance behind them. No matter how many times she saw the Spine of Vacuo, Blake almost couldn't comprehend its sheer enormity. The mountains back at Beacon were basically _anthills_ compared to these ones. In front of them, stretching from the foothills all the way to the base of the plateau there were on was a different forest.

This one was filled entirely with dark, dead trees. She had heard that residents of Vacuo had taken to calling it the "Forest of the Damned." She couldn't really blame them. A faint mist weaved effortlessly between the trees, seemingly beckoning onlookers forward. The twisted, spreading branches grasped at the sky as if thrashing in pain. Faces screeching agony could almost be seen in the scraps of deformed bark on the blackened husks that were once trunks. Looking down on it all from here, Blake had to suppress a shudder; it truly did look like a pit of tortured souls clawing desperately to escape their suffering.

It hadn't always been that way. She had never seen it herself, but apparently the forest has once been lush and green, full of thick, healthy Ashwood trees. The land was destroyed now, though. Ravaged by fire and poisoned beyond repair. She wished she could have seen it back then, before the town nestled in the middle of the woods was known as Ashfall.

All of these thoughts faded away whenever Blake's eyes landed on the edge of the plateau, at the two slabs of stone set side-by-side in the snow. This was why they had come here, why they had deviated from a straight course to Ashfall. She knew that she was delaying the mission for personal reasons, but quite frankly, she didn't really care. Roman seemed to be in no rush to go anywhere, and it had been awhile since she had been here, something that didn't sit quite right with her. Surprisingly, she hadn't been the one to suggest this, though.

A soft knock had sounded on her cabin's door early that morning. Figuring it to be one of the crew with updates of some sort, Blake had sauntered over and opened the door. She was thoroughly surprised to find Yang on the other side. The blonde looked anxious, refusing to meet the faunus' eyes and hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Blake had gently questioned her about what she wanted, and after a brief pause, she met her eyes and spoke five words that completely caught her off guard, if only because they were entirely unexpected.

"_I want to visit Ruby."_

It had taken Blake less than a second to make a decision. Roman could wait. This was more important. Far, _far_ more important. Because when Yang had looked her in the eyes, Blake had seen something in them. She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but she didn't really care. What mattered is that it was something more than the dead, emotionless look that had haunted those lilac irises since Ruby's death. And _that_ meant more to Blake than anything else. Yang, _her _Yang, might still be in there somewhere, even if only a little bit. Maybe visiting Ruby's grave would be some sort of catalyst to bringing her back. She didn't know, but it was worth an attempt.

Besides, she missed her friend too.

Yang reached the graves first, halting in between them. Blake stopped a respectable distance behind her, figuring her partner would like a moment to herself with her sister. It was the first time she had been here, after all. They stood there in silence as the snow around them began to fall a little heavier. Eventually, Yang lowered herself to a sitting position, knees bent up and ankles crossed in front of her. The graves were identical in shape. The right one was crafted of a light rose-colored marble, however, setting it apart from the gray one beside it. The same rose symbol that could found on the other marker was on this one too, located underneath two lines of text engraved at the top of the stone in an elegant script.

_Ruby Rose  
Go, Sleep Thou With Them_

"Hey, sis," Yang whispered quietly, reaching out a hand and resting it on the smooth surface. Blake felt her chest tighten and throat clench. Yang's voice carried none of the anger and rage it had for the last four years. All it held now was all of the pain, hurt, and pure, unfettered _anguish_ she had suffered since losing her sister. She sounded like small, broken child, and tears pricked at the corner of Blake's eyes as she continued talking. "I've been such a terrible sister, haven't I?"

_No! _Blake wanted to scream. _No, no, no! You were the best sister Ruby could ever ask for!_

"I let you down…let you die. I couldn't keep you safe." Her shoulders began trembling, and Blake had to dig her nails into her palm to keep herself from running to her.

_It wasn't your fault!_

"And then it took me four years to come visit. I didn't even go to your funeral." Blake felt blood drip from her hand as she pressed harder, willing herself not to move. She was sure Yang would not forgive her if she interrupted. "God," her voice cracked, "I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm so sorry." She buried her face in her knees as her body shuddered. Blake couldn't smell any tears, and she vaguely wondered if Yang still had the capability of producing them, or if they had dried up with her flames. Her second ears drooped as she bowed her head, letting a few tears escape from her own eyes. If Yang couldn't do it, then Blake would do it for her.

Her partner shifted, turning her head toward the other grave. "Summer," she began in a weak voice. She swallowed. "I never had the chance to meet you, but from everything Ruby and my dad said about you, you seemed like a wonderful person. I…I _swore _that I would protect your daughter, even if it cost me my life." She looked up at the sky. "I failed. And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for that." She closed her eyes, allowing the wind to gently tousle her hair while she sat there. Yang leaned over Ruby's grave and placed a gentle kiss against the marble. "I love you, Ruby."

She stood and moved the cliff's edge, not even looking back as she stepped off. Gravity yanked her downward, but two loud _bangs_ and a faint _fwump_ let Blake know that she had reached the ground below safely.

Blake approached Ruby's grave and knelt before it. She rested her unbloodied hand on her leader's insignia. "I'll take care of her, Ruby. I promise. I'll bring her back, no matter what." She straightened and leaped off the cliff after the Yang, and silence returned to rest once more on the gravesite.

* * *

She felt like she had just watched her sister die again. It was the only thing she could liken it to. She had _always_ been aware Ruby's absence. It had never left her mind, and that had been what had fueled her despair. But this was different than the simmering anger she had carried with her all this time. It reminded her of those first moments after the final battle, whenever it had well and truly hit her that Ruby was gone, and that she wouldn't be coming back.

Visiting her grave had stripped away the scab of rage Yang had grown, exposing the raw, bleeding wound of pain beneath. She felt as vulnerable and hollow as she had the first days following the end of the Siege. She had been listless then, still unable to process that her baby sister was dead. People had tried talking to her, to offer their condolences or just for conversation's sake, but she didn't register any of their words, and she never replied. Not even Weiss or Blake, neither of whom were ever very far from her, could illicit a reaction from her. It wasn't much longer before her anger welled up and consumed her, and from then on her life had been an awful mix of death, rage, and revenge. Somewhere along the line, Yang had forgotten how infinitely bottomless her despair had been when Ruby died.

But she had been reminded of that. Viscerally.

And now she needed to make sure Roman felt the same thing.

There was a soft rustle behind her, and Blake dropped from a tree, knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. Yang felt something ping in her chest as the faunus moved up beside her, but she ignored it. Seeing her sister's name engraved on a gravestone had frayed her nerves more than a little.

"We'll be reaching the village soon," Blake commented quietly, and as Yang nodded in response, she realized the sound of Blake's footsteps had entirely disappeared. "Yang-"

"Don't, Blake," she said warningly, but there was no anger in her voice, just a plea. She couldn't find it in her right now. "Just don't."

Blake gave her a concerned glance, but let it slide. "We'll need to go quietly from here on out. Do _not_ use Ember Celica unless you absolutely have to, okay? If we can, I'd like to get through this entirely undetected."

Yang glanced down at her gauntlets, still collapsed up on her wrists. "Alright."

Her partner blinked in surprise, she hadn't actually expected Yang to agree so easily. She seemed to have been going out of her way to be difficult up to now. Visiting the grave had clearly shaken her up. Either way, Blake wasn't going to complain. It was nice having the blonde on her side again. Blake slid Gambol Shroud from her back and moved into the lead.

It didn't take long before they reached the edge of the village. The trees thinned out before stopping at the edge of an enormous clearing. The two of them halted before emerging from the tree line, ducking behind the black trunks to survey their objective. What they saw filled Blake with anxiety.

Ashfall wasn't very large, around fifty buildings in all, if she had to take a guess. Though calling the structures left standing buildings was a bit of a stretch. Many of them were just dilapidated piles of rubble. Roofs caved in, windows shattered, walls blown away or burnt to ashes, there didn't look to be a single building that had escaped damage in the Beowolf attack all those years ago. That wasn't the issue, though. The issue was the vast number of people that were swarming over the entire area.

They were organized, regular patrols of twos and threes marched the perimeter and streets of the village in set patterns. The longer she watched, the more she noticed that there were no blind spots, no places that they could just slip through. Any building with a second floor still in tact had at least one scout posted to it, scoped long rifles slung across their backs. Roman was clearly taking no chances. All of them were similarly equipped as well, dressed in thick black winter coats and pants, coupled with gloves and boots and carrying sub-machine guns. A few of them had scarves or hats as well, and Blake felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She had a feeling she knew who these people were.

Fortunately, Blake had taken them on a bit of a roundabout path, so that they were approaching Ashfall from the east, rather than straight up the southern road, which would have gotten them killed in no time flat. _Un_fortunately, their options for infiltrating the town were incredibly limited, something Yang seemed to realize at about the same time. She glanced back at her, lilac eyes hard.

"So much for stealth then, huh?" She moved her arms, and Ember Celica unfolded.

"No, Yang, wait!" Blake whispered urgently. Surprisingly, the blonde halted, though she threw a glare her way. "We can at least _attempt_ to be quiet about this before we raise hell."

"There's not a whole lot of options here, Blake."

"Look, I know there's not really an opening, but we can _make_ one. It's something I've gotten pretty good at."

Yang narrowed her eyes, but seemed to consider her words. "Fine," she said grudgingly, leaning back against the tree again. "We'll try it your way."

Blake exhaled in relief and nodded at Yang. She peeked out toward the village again, eyes sweeping over the enemies' movements. A plan came together in her mind. "Alright, here's what we'll do. See those guards patrolling there?" She pointed to two men who seemed to lagging slightly behind in their circuit, causing more of gap between them and the next guards than there normally would have been. "When they get close enough, we'll draw them over to us and take them out. After that, we're going for that scout in the window." Her finger moved to indicated a two-story building with a collapsed roof sagging on the edge of town. The second floor was missing half of its walls. "We'll have to move fast, but if we can get there undetected we'll have a moment to breathe. You got that all?"

"Yeah."

"Good. They're coming, let's do it." Both of them tucked themselves fully behind their respective trees. Whenever the guards drew parallel with them, Blake whistled softly. Immediately, both of their guns snapped to their shoulders as they frantically searched for the source of the noise. They scanned the area, taking a few cautious steps forward. As soon as they crossed into the woods, Blake moved.

She activated her semblance, blurring out of view, and reappearing behind the front man. Gambol Shroud swung forward, and the back of the weapon smashed into base of his skull, dropping him without a sound. His companion jumped, and brought his gun to bear. Before he could pull the trigger, though, a fist slammed into the side of his face, pitching him head-first into a tree. He did not get back up.

Blake crouched down next to the one she had dropped while Yang glanced out toward Ashfall.

"We don't have long before the next patrol. We need to move," the blonde commented before looking back to Blake. "What the hell are you doing?"

The faunus pulled back the man's collar, and her eyes landed a very familiar symbol tattooed into the man's neck. It was just as she had feared. "They're ex-White Fang soldiers," she spoke as she stood, adding in an undertone, "Shit!"

Yang looked from her the tattoo and back again. "How do you know they're _ex_-White Fang?"

Blake gave her a confused look, as if she was trying to determine whether or not she was being serious. "Yang...the White Fang is _gone._ They were dismantled."

Lilac eyes widened. "What? When?"

"Years ago. How did you miss that?"

"I- "

Blake shook her head. "Doesn't matter. You were right, we don't have a lot of time. Let's get moving."

She burst from the trees before Yang could respond, leaving her no choice but to sprint after her. They flew across the open space. Thankfully, they had timed it just right. They should reach the building just before the next patrol would be able to spot them. The scout in the second floor seemed to notice something was amiss, however, because he turned toward them, eyes going wide with surprise and panic when he saw them.

His hand darted to a radio at his belt as Blake cursed. She summoned her Aura, and once more blurred through the air. She wouldn't reach him, but she could at least get in range. Her semblance faded, leaving her suspended in the air just before the second floor. She flicked a switch on Gambol Shroud's sheath with her thumb and swung it toward the faunus, who was now raising the radio to his mouth. If this had been four years ago, she would never have been able to reach him. But it wasn't, and she could.

With several faint clicks, the sheath separated into sections. The same elastic, high tensile material she used for the ribbon on the katana portion of her weapon was threaded through the entire sheath, holding the segments together and allowing the weapon to stretch to over twice its normal length. Her Aura formed blades in the gaps between, ensuring that she had a deadly sharp edge that ran all the way to the tip.

The weapon bit into the wolf faunus' neck and wrist at the same time and cleaved straight through both of them with barely any resistance. His body dropped to the wooden floor as Blake shadow stepped once more to reach the room. There was a brief _thump_, and Yang skidded to a halt beside her.

She looked at Blake, then at Gambol Shroud, and then at the still-bleeding corpse.

Blake waved her weapon. "I've made some improvements."

"Clearly."

The cat faunus moved to the shattered window that overlooked the street below, peering out cautiously. Nobody seemed to have detected them yet. "It looks like they're transporting some stuff towards the back end of the village. I'm guessing that's where their command post is."

Yang grit her teeth. "And Roman."

"And Roman," Blake agreed. She glanced down at the road and the surrounding rooftops. "if we move now, we can get to the building across the street without anyone noticing. You ready?"

Her partner nodded, and together they jumped from the window, clearing the street in one bound.

Yang clenched her fists to keep herself from trembling.

She was almost there.

She almost had him.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm so sorry this one's late guys. I got it started on time, but then I got swamped with overtime (again) and other engagements and I just couldn't find time. This one's the longest thus far though, so I hope that helps to make up for it!

Anyway, what did we all think? I was really happy with a few parts and kinda eh on others, but provided you all enjoyed it, I'm okay with it :)

If you'd like, let me know what you thought of Gambol Shroud's improvement.

For anyone wondering, the line on Ruby's grave is taken from the same peom as the one on Summer's, Thomas Moore's _The Last Rose of Summer_.

Anyway, I love you all, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Look forward to some Roman and a lot more action next time :D


	5. Again

Again

Blake heard a scuffing noise behind her, and her head shot up. That hadn't been Yang. She spun around to confront the unwelcome visitor, hand darting to Gambol Shroud on her back. She froze when she saw the barrel of a gun pointed right between her eyes. The fox faunus holding it glared at her, bushy tail flicking in agitation.

"Who are you?" he demanded. Blake remained silent, staring at him impassively. He took another step closer, waving the pistol threateningly. "I said, who-_mmmf!_" He struggled as a hand shot out from the shadows behind him and clamped down over his mouth. Another placed itself at the base of his skull, and they yanked abruptly in opposite directions. His neck twisted with a hideous cracking sound, and he fell lifelessly to the floor. Yang emerged from the darkened hallway, stepping coldly over the corpse.

Golden eyes glanced down at the unfortunate man's body. "You didn't have to _kill_ him," she said lightly.

"He was in the way," came the gruff reply, and Blake let it drop. This wasn't really the time to be worried about this kind of thing anyway. They were getting closer to the hub of activity, to Roman, and therefore the number of enemies was steadily increasing. Moving unseen by way of the rooftops had become an unviable option, and they were left darting between half-collapsed buildings and dilapidated houses. Currently, they were standing in the entrance hall of a little two story home that was still mostly intact. Form the glance she had gotten of the whole thing while she was darting down the narrow alley to the side door, the only notable damage had been a hole in the roof.

The faunus who had caught her unaware must have come from the kitchen behind her. She wasn't sure how she had missed him, but she remembered seeing a cellar door in the corner of the linoleum-floored room. Maybe he had been down there. Either way, it didn't really matter. Blake silently congratulated herself on having the foresight to tell Yang to follow a bit behind her. If she hadn't, they both would have been taken by surprise, and although they could have dealt with it, there was a very large chance they would not have been able to keep it quiet. Their stealth was the biggest thing they had going for them so far, and Blake didn't want to risk it.

She moved into the living room, sauntering over to the large bay window set in the street-side wall. She cautiously pulled aside ruined curtains, mostly just filthy rags at this point, and peered outside. Their immediate area looked clear. No patrolling units were walking the street, and she couldn't spot any scouts in any of the buildings across the street. Blake glanced up the road in the direction that they were moving in and finally saw what she could only presume was their goal.

Tucked in the back of the village was a large, wooden structure. It looked like a gigantic warehouse of some sort, easily ten times the size of the house she and Yang were crouched in. It was a hub of activity, people moving in and out, carrying random crates and boxes of varying sizes through two massive doors.

"Yang," she called softly, motioning the blonde over. She slid into position at the other side of the window. "That's where we're heading," the faunus said while pointing to the warehouse.

Yang's eyes narrowed as she watched several crates emerge from within the structure, carried on a wheeled cart. "What are they doing?"

Blake shook her head. "I've got no idea, but that is definitely their main post." Golden eyes scanned the environment, looking for a suitable path to get closer. Approaching from the front would be suicide. There were four more houses on each side of the street, and then a large open field of what may have once been an orchard of sorts, if the rows of dead trees were anything to go by. On the right side of the clearing was a low, long building; stables, maybe. Not that she cared. It would serve as a decent cover to get close to the storehouse. "We'll move to behind that building," she pointed, and Yang followed her finger.

"That'll keep us out of sight, but what about the Grimm? I haven't seen any so far, so I can only assume he's got all of them holed up back there with him. They'll sense us in an instant."

"We don't have to worry about that." Yang gave her a questioning look. "I took care of that issue last year. They were using some type of pill to artificially infuse the Grimm with Aura, enslaving them to themselves. I destroyed the factory responsible for producing them." Upon seeing the incredulity on Yang's face, she continued, "I told you, I've been working with Ozpin for the sole purpose of bringing these guys down."

"You say you destroyed their ability to control Grimm, yet yesterday you said you've only scratched the surface."

Blake sighed and nodded. "This group…it's _terrifying_ what they seem to be capable of. We've discovered they've been behind every major disaster or conflict of the last century, and no one ever even noticed. Not until us."

"They're that hard to find?"

"Yes, which is why we need Roman. He's the closest thing we have to an inside source. Even the slightest bit of information we could get out of him would be invaluable." She glanced back out the window. "We had better get going. Looks like they might be preparing to move out."

Yang didn't say a word, just moved out of the living room and to the front door, Blake shortly behind. She pulled the door opened slowly, trying to prevent the creaking groan that issued as the wood swung unevenly on rusted hinges. She stuck her head out, and found that the road was still clear. If they moved quickly they should be fine. Everyone at the warehouse was too busy to worry about the road, thankfully. She looked over her shoulder at her partner, jerking her head out the door. Yang nodded, and together they darted out and across the snow-covered dirt, dashing into the house opposite.

This one was little more than a shell, all but half on the front wall entirely gone. Scraps of wood were strewn about in haphazard piles. The next building in the line was squat, one story home, and they easily leapt on top of it. From there, they jumped through the hole in the next home's attic. Blake led them to the first floor and out through the back door. There was one more house between them and the orchard. After that, there was a small patch of open ground they had to cover before they made it the long structure, broken only by burnt tree trunks.

"You ready?" she whispered, and received only a nod in response. Blake sprinted out from cover, praying that no one spotted them as they cut through the field. Fortunately, they heard no yells of alarm, no sirens or gunfire, and they each skidded safely into the safety of the wooden building, which Blake now noticed was, in fact, stables. They took a moment to breathe, and Blake mused to herself. Things were going well. Very well, actually. That scared her. It was her experience that things only went this well when they were waiting for the absolute worst moment to go wrong.

Her eyes shifted to her partner, who had removed her right gauntlet so that she could readjust the bandage underneath. Blake found herself again wondering exactly what it hid. It had been there ever since she had first seen Yang after her return to Vale, so clearly it was something she had acquired during her disappearance. Yang, noticing her gaze, quickly slid her weapon back over her wrist and redeployed it, covering up the white gauze.

"Let's go," she growled, and Blake bit her lip to keep from blurting out some question like the previous day. She didn't need Yang turning hostile now. Instead, she lightly treaded down the corridor in between the two rows of stalls that once held horses. When she reached the other end, she peered around the doorframe, letting loose a small curse at what she saw.

Now that they were this close she could easily see that there were even more people than she had originally thought. A part of the area behind the warehouse was also visible to her now, and she could make out the outline of a large transport airship. Given the amount of people and supplies that were being moved, she guessed it wasn't the only one. As she watched, two faunus emerged from the building, pulling a large cart stacked with metal boxes. There was familiar logo picked out in a faded white on the side of several of them.

"Dust," She realized with a whisper.

"What?"

"That's Schnee Company Dust! All of it! Look at how much they have! They must have been stockpiling it all here. That's why Weiss could never find where it all went."

"Who cares?"

Blake turned to look at her, eyes wide. "Yang, do you realize what they could _do_ with that much Dust?"

"I don't really care."

"Yang-"

"_I don't care_!" Yang hissed, glaring crimson at her. Blake shrunk back a bit, cowed by the sheer force. "Don't forget what we came here for, Blake. We're here for Roman. You can deal with the Dust in your own time."

Blake quashed the impulse to fire back. Fighting with Yang wouldn't help either of them at all right now, and she could see that there was no way to make the present Yang see the bigger picture. "Fine," she said flatly, eyes swinging back outside. "C'mon, it's clear." Without even waiting for a response she ran from the stables, taking slightly Aura-boosted jump to propel herself to the warehouse's roof. She landed silently. The same could not be said for her partner, whose boots thumped solidly as she touched down on the peeling shingles beside her. Blare sent her a quick glare, which she brushed off.

The words of someone beneath them reached her second set of ears, "The hell was that?" She froze, and clamped a hand around Yang's upper arm to make sure she did the same. The brawler jerked away, opening her mouth to say something, but Blake held up a finger, and she closed it again, albeit angrily.

There was another beat of silence in which Blake figured the men below were listening. Finally, another voice answered the first, "Probably just some birds or something. They get crazy big out here. Let's get this last shipment out. Boss wants us ready to go in fifteen."

There was a shuffling sound, and Blake breathed a small sigh of relief. She looked at Yang, pressed her finger to her lips, and then pointed at a large hole a little further along the roof. She nodded, and crept towards it, putting at least a small amount of effort into treading lightly, Blake noted with satisfaction. They reached the hole without any further incident, and both leaned over the edge.

Opened up beneath them was the warehouse, as huge as it had looked form the outside. People scurried about hurriedly, moving various pieces of equipment onto carts and out the doors. It must have been a sizeable operation, based upon all the activity they could see, but it was clearly at its end. The building was nearly empty, only a few remaining computers could be seen resting on collapsible tables set along the side wall. Old, moldy straw covered the floor wherever the snow that had fallen through the holes above hadn't laid.

"We're out in ten, everybody," a familiar voice called out, and into view strode Roman Torchwick. He looked almost exactly as Blake remembered him. Orange hair over one eye, cigar in mouth, emerald eyes narrowed. His white coat was lined with black fur to insulate from the biting cold, but other than that, his outfit remained unchanged, right down to the bowler on his head. Blake supposed being in deep hiding didn't give one a lot of chances to work on their wardrobe. As she watched he pointed his cane at a group of three faunus working on tearing down the last operational computer station. "You lot! Move it! I _will_ leave you behind."

A soft rattle sounded from beside her, and Blake looked over to see Yang literally _shaking_. Her eyes were the darkest crimson she had ever seen, and her fists were clenched so tightly that her muscles trembled. The expression on her face was vicious, teeth bared in a feral snarl. Blake realized what was about to happen, and she reached out a hand, trying to grab her. She didn't make it in time, though, as Yang vaulted through the breech, hurtling toward the floor below.

* * *

The instant Yang saw him, everything went red.

Her blood boiled, and every single rational thought fled her mind. The agreement to keep him alive disappeared as sharp, molten anger flooded her system. She was vaguely aware that her body was shaking, but mind was too focused on the man beneath her to process the stress her rage was putting her through. The man responsible for her sister's death.

_He killed her,_ a voice whispered in the back of her head.

_Kill him._

Her body moved on its own, levering her over the edge. As she plummeted downward, she roared so loudly that it felt like her vocal chords were tearing, "_ROMAN!"_

The criminal spun around in surprise, visible eye going wide as it landed on the blonde girl soaring straight at him. He brought up Melodic Cudgel at the same time Yang brought down her fist. Ember Celica fired with a deafening _boom_ and Yang slammed into the ground as the Roman stumbled backward, his guard broken. Not wasting a second, Yang's arms flew out to her sides, her weapons blasting her forward, where her right elbow planted deeply in Roman's abdomen. He was pitched backward, landing hard on his back and skidding into the far wall, where he coughed and gasped, trying to regain his breath.

Two faunus, who had been near their boss whenever Yang's assault had begun, snapped out of their stunned states, charging her from either side. She ducked the claws of the bear faunus that reached her first, sweeping her foot around and taking his legs out from under him, as he fell she planted her left fist in his face and straightened up, turning it into a vicious uppercut that immediately removed him from the conscious world. The dog faunus on the other swung at her with a short sword. Yang's other arm came up, batting aside the weapon with her gauntlet before her fist lashed out. Her hand clamped around the woman's throat, and Ember Celica unloaded a fistful of fiery buckshot point blank into her face, turning it into an unrecognizable mess.

Yang dropped the corpse to the ground and turned back to Roman, who was now pulling himself to his feet. He studied her cautiously, recognition dawning on his face.

"Well, hello there, blondie." Yang didn't say anything, merely putting her fists up and squaring herself. Roman continued unperturbed, "I gotta say, I did not expect to see you here. In fact, I wasn't really expecting to see you at all. I was kind of hoping you and Cinder had finished each other off, to be honest." Yang's eyebrow twitched. "But oh, it's been _ages_. You're not looking so good. Have you been taking care of yourself since that whole fiasco at Beacon? I heard about what happened." He sighed and shook his head. "Such a tragedy. She was so talented."

Yang snapped, letting loose an animalistic scream that caused several of the faunus to flinch, and pelted forward. Roman smirked and made a small motion with his hand. Three of his men leapt at Yang from behind. She had reacted just like he had wanted, focusing all of her attention of him. She would be dead before she even noticed. He allowed himself a small chuckle. "You shouldn't have come alone, blondie."

"She didn't."

There was a faint blur, and suddenly Blake solidified beside the three faunus, whose backs now all sported a long, deep gash. Gambol Shroud's sheath returned to its normal length as they all collapsed.

"Oh good," Roman said irritably, "the cat's here too." He leaned to the right, dodging Yang's fist, before hooking her shoulder with his cane and yanking, sending her sprawling to the floor behind him. His eye trained on Blake. "Hello, kitty," he greeted.

"Roman."

"I don't suppose you two will just leave me in peace?"

Blake shook her head. "You'll be coming with us this time."

Roman took a deep drag of his cigar before exhaling a mouthful of smoke. "I'm afraid that won't work for me. I have prior engagements, you see."

"You can tell us all about them later."

Roman opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of booted feet behind him made him twirl around, Melodic Cudgel interceding between himself and the fist soaring at him. Yang brought her knee up, aiming for his gut, but he tilted the cane, and pushed aside the attack with the end of it while he twisted around to her side. He pulled, and the hook of his weapon caught her around the throat. Roman flipped her over his shoulders and into the air. His aura flared a warning as Blake appeared behind him, sword already in motion. He ducked under the attack, spinning and swinging at her ribs. Gambol Shroud blocked the attack with a metallic _clang_.

"You can't really expect to win against the both of us, Roman," Blake commented.

"Oh, I don't," he replied with a smile. "Just her." He foot flashed up, slamming into Blake's guard and sending her skidding. "Get her," he commanded, and Blake was all at once beset on all sides by faunus soldiers.

_Shit! The rest must have come in while we were distracted!_ She separated her weapon, parrying two attacks at once. She could handle this many enemies, but there was no way she would be able to help Yang if Roman proved too much, or stop her from killing him if it went the other way. From what she had seen so far, the former was the most likely.

"And now that that's dealt with," Roman said, turning around in time to narrowly avoid another fist. A second one followed soon after, which he neatly sidestepped. "Come now, blondie," he mocked as he lashed out with Cudgel, catching her in the side. "You were a lot stronger than this back then. What's happened, hmm?"

"_I'll kill you!"_ she seethed angrily, aiming a right uppercut at his chin. He leaned back, and her knuckles met nothing. She fired her left gauntlet, throwing her torso into a quick spin, and bringing her elbow about in a harsh jab. Yet again, she was met by his cane, though. His arm was bracing it from behind, stopping her attack cold. He smirked, and Yang felt pain explode up her spine as his foot connected with the small of her back. She stumbled forward, vision swimming slightly.

Roman aimed and fired a blast from Melodic Cudgel. The shimmering projectile slammed into Yang and exploded, tossing her into the back wall. The old wood gave way with a reluctant splintering sound, and the brawler tumbled into the open field beyond. There were three large airships waiting there, engines already thrumming with energy. Those faunus that weren't engaged with Blake were climbing aboard, having secured away the last of the cargo but the few terminals left in the warehouse.

Yang climbed shakily to her feet, body aching and muscles screaming in pain. They weren't used to this kind of abuse, not anymore. She was out of shape, slower, weaker. None of this registered for her though, her mind still consumed by the inferno of her hate. Ember Celica blazed behind her, accelerating her straight at Roman, who had just stepped through the jagged hole she had left.

"Do you children never learn?" he said with a sigh.

She pulled back her fist for a punch, but Roman extended his cane, pressing it against her hand and stopping her arm from straightening. Before she could react, Melodic Cudgel darted upward, cracking her harshly in the temple. Stars exploded across her vision as she staggered away, right hand coming up to cradle her injury. Her head felt like it had been split open, and warm blood trickled against her fingers. Cloudy lilac eyes looked at Roman, but she couldn't seem to bring him into focus no matter how hard she tried. Yang fell to one knee, planting her let fist in the snow to try and hold herself up. Small clouds fogged in front of her face as her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

_Get up! _She screamed at herself internally. _Kill him!_ But her body wouldn't respond. She had pushed herself too far, taken too much damage. If only she could still activate her semblance…

Roman brushed an unseen speck of dust from his shoulder. "Well, as fun as this has been, blondie, I fear we've reached the end." He took a drag from his cigar, before raising his cane, pointing it directly at her. "Give my regards to Red." A cluster of three shots shot from the end of the barrel, hurtling toward Yang at an alarming velocity.

She couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch as her death roared toward her. _Fuck…I couldn't do anything. Sorry, Ruby._ And then another thought hit her as something clenched in her chest, one completely unbidden. _I should have listened to Blake._

There was a blur, and something crashed into Yang from the side just before Roman's attack hit. She heard the explosion, felt the heat of the blast on her face, but felt none of the pain that should have accompanied it. She hit the snow as Roman made a small sound of annoyance.

"Must you always get in my way, kitty?"

Yang's eyes widened, snapping back to where she had been moments before. A very battered Blake stood there, glaring golden daggers at Roman. There were several lightly bleeding gashes decorating her person, and small traces of smoke rose from scorched clothing and burnt-red skin. Her breathing was shallow and ragged.

"Ooh, that one hurt, didn't it? I have to say, you look pretty drained; jumping that whole way must have really put a strain on your Aura. Killing the both of you probably wouldn't take very much right now, would it?" The remainder of the faunus began trickling out of the warehouse, several of them sporting fresh wounds or carrying unconscious comrades. Blake had given them a hell of a fight. Roman motioned, and Yang was surprised whenever they all started toward the airships. She was even more surprised when they started boarding them with seemingly no intent to return.

"That being said," Roman continued, drawing her attention back to him. "Underestimating you young ladies has never worked out well for me, and if I really don't have any time to spare. You've probably got reinforcements in the area, and I'd rather not give you the chance to stall for them." He walked to the nearest airship and climbed up the cargo ramp before to them. "And so I'll say my goodbyes here." His eye slid to Blake as the airship lifted off the ground. "You and little operative pals have been a huge pain for us, so if it's not too much trouble, could you just die here for me?" He reached down the front of his coat, and pulled out a small, thin whistle hanging on a chain around his neck. He pressed it to his lips and blew.

Yang's brow furrowed in confusion when she heard nothing. Beside her, Blake clamped her hands over her faunus ears, face screwed up in pain. Up above them, Roman dropped the metal cylinder back in his shirt and laughed lightly. "Good luck!" he called with a smile as the cargo door slid shut.

As if those words were the key, Yang suddenly found her body would move again. She bolted to her feet throwing punch after punch at the quickly receding bulk of Roman's vehicle. "ROMAN!" she screamed. "_ROMAN!" _Her fiery attacks did little more than scorch the airship's hull. There was a small series of soft, metallic clicks behind her, and she turned to see Blake throwing the transformed pistol half of Gambol Shroud into the air. When it reached the end of its range with the ribbon, she yanked backward, firing one solitary bullet. Yang thought she heard a soft _ping_ as it hit the airship's metal surface, but she couldn't be sure.

And then they were gone, entirely out of range. He had gotten away.

Again.

Yang felt a wave of frustration and hopelessness surge up through her chest, and she screamed furiously, the sound echoing back repeatedly in the emptiness of the forest.

Blake collapsed to her knees, breaths still coming in short gasps. "Yang-" she was interrupted by a cough. She doubled over, her right arm wrapping around her stomach while her other supported her weight. The blonde was beside her in two steps. She crouched down beside her, eyes fading back to their normal lilac hue as she watched the faunus woman struggle to force more words out. "We-we can still," she winced and swallowed. "We can still get…him. I got a tracker on his-" another cough rattled through her chest, cutting off the rest of her sentence.

Yang's eyes were wide. "Blake…" What could she say? What _should_ she say? Being concerned about another person's wellbeing was something she had long forgotten. And yet, here it was. Blake was injured, because of her, and Yang felt a horrible, twisting sinking in her gut. When she noticed the crimson stain leaking out from underneath Blake's hand on her abdomen, the feeling increased tenfold in intensity. "Blake, you're bleeding," she whispered, horrified. She reached out and gently pulled away the faunus' hand, cringing when she saw the ragged hole punched through her leather chest piece. "You've been _shot_."

Blake glanced at her. "No-big-deal," she hissed through teeth gritted in pain, each word punctuated by a gasping breath, "Just a-lucky-hit."

Yang knew better though. 'Lucky hits' didn't happen to Blake Belladonna. Not unless she was distracted by something, like trying to save her partner. It must have been whenever she had come to her rescue. As this registered in Yang's brain, Blake's eyes rolled up into her head, and her arm gave way. Yang caught her before her face struck the ground. "Blake?" she cried, worriedly. She rolled her over and gave her shoulders a slight shake, but the faunus didn't respond. "Blake!" she called again, fear lacing her voice. _No, not again. Please not again. I don't want to lose another one. _Her mind flew into a panic. What could she do? Blake was bleeding out, _dying_. She had to get help, somehow, had to get her out of here.

Before she could even begin to plan a way to do that, a low growl interrupted her train of thought. Her head snapped up, and she felt her blood freeze at the sight that awaited her.

Beowolves.

Everywhere.

_Where did they come from? Why now?_ Roman's final words echoed in her ears. "That son of a bitch," she breathed. That whistle must have been some sort of call, almost like a dog whistle, out of range for her human ears. One Beowolf sniffed the air before snarling and charging her. "Fuck." She quickly slid into a stance. As the Grimm reached her, eyes glowing and teeth glinting, it was met with a fist straight to the top of its head, crushing it into the ground and shattering the bone white mask on its face.

Yang spun and extended her foot, heel connecting with another's neck that had tried to jump her from behind. It hit the ground and Yang sent a shot from Ember Celica after it. She barely dodged a swipe from the side, countering with a vicious uppercut that lifted the Grimm off its feet. Already her muscles were screaming in protest, pain pulsing through her system with every heartbeat. Sweat dripped down her forehead, her breathing heavy. She wouldn't be able to fight them all off, and she knew it.

She had just taken one's head clean off with a blast from Ember Celica when a set of claws dug into her back and rove their way from right shoulder to left hip. She bit back a cry as she stumbled. The Beowolf snarled before swiping with its other paw. Yang ducked underneath, slamming both of her hands into its gut and blowing a massive hole through the beast. Exhausted, it was all she could do to not pass out as she fell to her knees at Blake's side.

The sound of paws crunching through the snow told her that more Beowolves were bearing down on them, but she couldn't do anything anymore. She was done.

Black was creeping in the edges of her vision as she reached out a trembling hand and gently cupped Blake's cheek, internally flinching at how cold her skin felt. "I'm sorry, Blake," she whispered softly.

She heard the snarl of a Beowolf, and then Yang's world fell into darkness.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, so first thing's first, sorry for the delay on this one. While I realize it is still technically in my selfset update schedule of 1-1.5 weeks, I wanted to get this one up last week. However, I got super busy again (which seems to be a running theme) and I actually ended up going to visit my family over the weekend, so obviously no writing there. (I also admit that I have recently gotten back into Pokemon X, so that has been taking up some time too). Anyway, I'm very sorry, and I hope this chapter and its length (longest thus far) made up for the delay

Now, apologies out of the way, what did you all think? I enjoyed writing some action again. It's fun to envision. I hope it kept up with Ruin's fight scenes (some of which I was actually pretty proud). We're starting to see a bit of change in Yang.

Next chapter's one I've been itching to write for awhile. It's going to be _heavy_, and you'll be getting the full disclosure on a few events that took place after the Siege

On another note, I'm almost done with Weiss' design, so hopefully I'll be posting that sometime within the next week

ALSO, HAVE YOU HEARD THE FULL VERSION OF THE NEW INTRO SONG 'CAUSE ASJDHASDHIJASHNLSADJS

Anyway, that's all for now. Look forward to the next one, my friends! As always, please review, and I love all of you so very, very much 3


	6. Flare

Flare

Black.

That's all she could see. She turned her head in several directions to try and determine where she was. At least, she thought she did. She may very well have accomplished nothing. She couldn't honestly tell. She couldn't determine what was up or down, left of right, forward or back. She was just there, in the darkness.

And then she wasn't. She was standing on a snowy cliff overlooking a forest of black, twisting trees. The sky was pitch black, but no stars shone from within its depths. In front of her lay a slab of rose marble.

Yang fell to her knees before her sister's gravestone.

"I'm so sorry, Ruby. I couldn't do anything for you." She choked back a sob. "It's all my fault."

"Yes, it is," a familiar voice said from behind her, and Yang whirled around to find Blake standing there, staring at her impassively.

"B-Blake?" she stuttered. The faunus woman was beaten to hell, cuts and gashes littering her body, leaking fresh blood. The worst injury by far, though, was the bullet wound marring the right side of her stomach. "Blake, you're hurt."

The raven-haired huntress glanced down to examine her own body, poking at the hole in her abdomen. When her eyes once again met Yang's, the blonde shivered. There was no emotion in those golden irises, no pain. There was nothing there. They were empty. "I'm dead," she said in a hollow voice. That simple statement slammed into Yang so hard that she was left struggling to breathe.

"N-No," she finally choked out. "No-how-"

Another person cut her off. "It was your fault. You killed her as much as you did me." From the void behind Blake stepped another figure, this one in a tattered red dress. She dragged herself forward on broken legs, and her arms hung limply at her sides, the left one ending in a stump. Any visible inch of skin was charred and seared beyond recognition. The worst thing was her eyes though. Two blackened holes where once the woman's gilded irises had resided.

Death did not look good on Cinder Fall.

Yang scrambled backward, trying to get as far away from the ghosts as possible. "Get away from me!"

"What's wrong, can't you live with what you've done?" Yang didn't recognize the new person, but that wasn't saying much, as her face was a bloody mess of flesh and bone. The dogs ears sitting atop her head quickly identified her as one of the faunus that had attacked her during her fight with Roman. She felt sick to her stomach, and her limbs started trembling.

"S-Stay away. All of you," she whispered weakly as more and more appeared, all of them beaten, bloody, and broken. They all wore different outfits, black suits with red ties, white armor, civilian clothing, but all of them shared the same blank stare. They pushed in on her, and Yang backed up, pressing herself against Ruby's headstone. "I didn't-it wasn't me-"

"Oh, but it _was_ you, Yang." Someone cooed gently in her ear, and Yang's blood froze at the same time she realized that although her back was against something cold, it was not her sister's grave. It wasn't hard enough to be marble. It was soft, like a body. "We're all dead, thanks to you." Violent shudders wracked her muscles as she slowly turned around, lilac eyes open wide and dread gripping her heart.

And there she was. Her signature cloak was shredded, reaching only to the base of her spine instead of to her feet. Wounds covered every inch of her skin, the blood soaking into her combat uniform almost invisible against the black material. That giant, gaping hole that Yang remembered so vividly was still there in her abdomen. Crimson dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she smiled at Yang, silver eyes showing no joy. Panic tore at Yang's chest, and she dropped to the snowy ground, curling up in a ball as all of the ghosts swirled around her.

"It's all your fault, Yang. You've killed us all," Ruby said, leaning over her sister.

"No," she gasped weakly. "No, I-"

"You left me to die, Yang." The blonde wished Ruby had just kicked her instead, it would've hurt far less. "You promised you'd protect me, that you'd never let anything hurt me." Yang let out a small whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut and folded tighter on herself. "So where were you?" Blood began to run down her cheeks from her eyes. Yang opened her mouth to scream, but the sound got caught in her throat.

"Why did you just stand there and watch them _kill me_?"

* * *

Yang sat straight up, taking a deep, gasping breath as her eyes flew wide. Her heart thudded in her ears, and her breath came in short gasps. Her body trembled, and cold sweat plastered her hair to her forehead. It took her a minute to realize that she was no longer in that horrifying place, that she was back in the land of the living. Her eyes darted around, taking in the sterile white walls and ceiling, lit by bright overhead lights. Silver instruments lay stacked on an impeccably clean countertop. White cabinets lined the wall across the square room, and a large machine stood in the corner. She relaxed a little bit, laying back down on the soft bed as it registered that she must be in an infirmary; the place stank of antiseptics. _Just a nightmare_, she told herself. _Just a nightmare._

"Well, good evening."

The blonde jumped in surprise, snapping her attention to the chair beside her bed. The one she somehow hadn't noticed was occupied. Blake was sat there, observing her with completely _not vacant_ eyes, and Yang felt such a rush of emotion that she just stared dumbly at the brunette for a few moments. Blake was alive, Yang hadn't gotten her killed.

"Yang?" Blake's brow furrowed in concern.

The blonde snapped out of her mini-trance, and tried to fight down the warmth spreading through her chest. "Your wounds…" she trailed off unsuredly.

"Healed, for the most part. Unlike certain people, my Aura's functioning fine. I'll be stiff for a while yet, but all in all, I'm fine." Yang shifted, pulling herself once more into a sitting position. She winced as pain lanced up her spine this time, the adrenaline from her nightmare no longer in effect. "You, on the other hand, probably haven't healed quite so well. I asked them to let me take care of your wounds, so they only did basic first aid."

Yang blinked away the stars swimming across her vision, focusing on Blake once more. Seeing her sitting there in her ragged combat outfit, dried blood crusted all over, brought feelings Yang was no longer familiar with screaming to the front of her mind. Joy, relief, _happiness_. Those moments when she thought she had lost Blake too had been the worst since her sister's death. She shuddered as her nightmare resurfaced, the image of Blake's dead eyes haunting her.

"Blake," Yang whispered, voice cracking with emotion. She didn't know how to express to her what she was feeling. Hell, she didn't even _know_ what she was feeling. It was a weird, convoluted ball of emotions wound tightly in her chest, and she couldn't make heads or tails of it. The faunus leaned forward a little, and Yang saw something flash through her eyes. What, she didn't know. She was too busy trying to decipher her _own_ thoughts, let alone someone else's. She did know one thing though, and she figured that was probably a good place to start.

When she opened her mouth to speak, though, she found the words wouldn't come out. They just got caught in her throat. She tried again.

"_I'm glad you're not dead."_

What came out instead was, "What happened?"

Blake frowned almost imperceptibly before leaning back with a sigh. "Captain Reynolds showed up in the _Shadowswift_ and saved us at the last minute. Said the Beowolves were about to tear us to pieces."

"I thought you asked him to hang back to avoid spooking Roman?"

The brunette gave her a measured look before calmly stating, "Well, once someone shot the whole 'don't spook Roman' plan to hell, I called for a pickup. We should be thankful that they managed to get there when they did."

Yang flinched slightly at the thinly veiled accusation, but didn't address it. "What were you saying before you passed out? Something about a tracker?"

"That last shot I fired wasn't a bullet. It was a locator bug. I had one ready in case something like this happened. So long as he doesn't notice and remove it, we can follow him to the ends of the map."

Yang nodded and turned herself around with another wince, hanging her legs off the side of the bed. She spotted her jacket lying draped over the foot of the bedframe, and reached for it, asking, "So how long before we catch up to him?" She could feel the red hot rage seething beneath her skin at the mere thought of catching Roman again.

"We're not going after him. We're heading to Beacon."

She froze, arm still outstretched to snatch her jacket. She turned her head slowly to Blake. "What?" she hissed quietly.

"We're going to Beacon, Yang."

Her temper flared, and Yang felt all of the emotions drain from her chest to be replaced by pure, raw anger. "_Why the fuck-"_

"Because we're outclassed, Yang!" Blake talked over her, voice as cold and unrelenting as steel. "We need to recover, and we need reinforcements!"

"That's total bullshit! We should be going after him now, we don't need anybody else-"

Amazingly enough, despite her companion's fury, it was Blake who shouted first, drowning out Yang's words with a voice full of pent-up frustration and anger. "Yes we do!" She narrowed her eyes at Yang, whose own lilac glare seemed perfectly _endearing_ next to the sheer force swirling in those golden irises. "We need help! We can't do this on our own! Especially since you _ruined_ the entire mission and _fucked up_ our best chance to capture him because you couldn't control your temper!"

Yang's eyes glazed crimson. "Don't you dare-" she started, but once more, Blake interrupted her, voice hot and quiet.

"I'll dare to do any damn thing I please!" She spit. "Do you have any idea what you did to me, to _us,_ when you disappeared?" Blake couldn't control herself. She hadn't intended to have this conversation here and now, but now that it was started, she found that she couldn't even _think_ of stopping herself. She was through with watching on the sideline as her partner self-destructed. "Do you have any idea the kind of _panic_ we suffered? How many times I saw you dead or dying when I closed my eyes, heard your screams for help? You vanished without a word, and then magically reappeared the same way. But instead of coming back to us and trying to live with what had happened, you isolated yourself. You _destroyed _yourself. Do you really, honestly think that's what Ruby would have wanted? For you to kill yourself in mourning for her?" Yang's eyes, now back to their natural color, were wide, her mouth hanging open in shocked surprise.

"You _left_ us." Blake's voice cracked. "Ruby died, and you left." She took a deep, stuttering breath, desperately trying to reign in her emotions. "Weiss and I…we were hurting too. Ruby was our leader, our friend. She was Weiss' _partner_. Did you ever even think about how that must have felt for her? What that did to her? Do you have _any_ idea how many times she woke up screaming your sister's name?" Yang's mouth moved wordlessly, but Blake hadn't really been expecting an answer. "Two hundred and seventy-eight, the first year. Every single night. Those she didn't were the nights she didn't sleep. She blamed herself every day. We both did. We tore ourselves to shreds. We needed you there. She needed her friend and I needed my partner. But you vanished, and left us more alone than before, half of our team, our _family_, gone. We just woke up one day and you weren't there. Off to be some sort of great avenger. You abandoned your friends. You abandoned _me_, Yang." Hot tears streaked down her face now, but she didn't take notice. "I needed you, and you weren't there." Her voice was quiet, all her energy spent.

Blake's eyes dropped to her lap as tears fell from them freely. Yang just sat there, staring at the faunus. She could think of nothing to say. Not a single thought came to mind. Blake's words had cut deep and hard, striking something deep within her, buried under years of pain. She hadn't thought about her teammates when she had set out for revenge all the years ago. Finding and killing Cinder and Roman had been the only things on her mind at the time, and now she could see exactly what sort of impact her single-mindedness had had. She had never wanted that. She had never wanted to hurt them. She had just wanted to get back at the people who had killed her sister. But in the end, it seemed she had managed to hurt them, hurt _Blake_, as badly as those who had taken her sister from them all. She felt her stomach roil nauseously at that thought. Just what exactly had she done?

She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_, but Blake once more beat her to the chase.

"Take your shirt off," she demanded in a voice that brooked no argument. Yang just looked at her in confusion, reeling from the emotional whiplash and put off by the sudden change in her companion's demeanor. Blake's gaze hardened slightly whenever the blonde didn't react, all traces of tears already gone. "You're wounded, and since your Aura doesn't seem to be working correctly at the moment, we'll have to clean out your wounds and treat them normally. Now are you going to take off your damn shirt, or am I going to have to tear it off?"

Something in Yang _growled_ at those words, but not in anger.

She grasped the hem of the skin-tight grey fabric, pulling it over her head in a disjointed motion as her body screamed in agony. It was then that Yang truly realized just how beaten she was. The gashes on her back throbbed with each heartbeat, and her muscles ached so deeply she could feel it in her bones. She could tell without even checking that the place where Roman had struck her temple was swollen and discolored. Honestly, it was amazing she could move at all, given her condition. Adrenaline was a hell of a thing.

Blake bit back a small gasp as Yang removed her shirt, but felt her heart speed up all the same. She was just as stunning as she had always been. Sculpted muscle and tantalizing curves. The faunus fought to keep a flush from creeping up her face as heat welled in her stomach. Now was _not_ the time for that. It was a testament to her willpower that Blake managed to divert her eyes from Yang's exposed chest, instead letting them flit from one injury to the next, making a quick mental list of what she'd need. She slid from her chair and moved to the cabinets, gathering herself a fair number of bandages, gauze, and antibiotic ointment. She pulled a small end table from the corner to the bedside, and laid the supplies down there, before retrieving a small basin of water and a sterile cloth. Yang was silent, watching her go about her task with unreadable eyes. Words were still a bit out of reach for her at the moment.

"Turn around," Blake commanded gently as she soaked the rag and rung the excess water from it. Yang obediently rotated herself toward the wall, crossing her legs. Blake inhaled sharply through her teeth as she got a good look at the claw marks marring Yang's back. There were four of them, and they were _deep_. Dried blood and dirt crusted the edges of the wounds, and the skin around them was an agitated red. Her fingers lightly traced the longest one until it ran into the gauze wrapped around Yang's shoulder and down her arm. The edge was loose, yet the bandage still held close to her skin. Blake gently toyed with the end, asking a silent question. Yang tensed, but made no move to stop her, and Blake took that as permission.

She carefully unwound the white cloth, letting it slide off the blonde's arm to the bed. What awaited her made her gasp. From her shoulder, all the way down to her forearm, the top of Yang's arm was covered in an uneven, raw red scar. The flesh was horribly disfigured, puckered and pocked as if it had melted.

"Yang," she breathed, unable to even imagine the kind of _agony_ a fire that would inflict a burn this bad would cause.

"You should see the other girl," Yang commented with a humorless smile.

"I have," Blake said quietly, suppressing a shudder as she gently pressed the cloth to the first of the cuts, earning a hiss from her partner. She had read the reports on Cinder's death, seen the pictures of the beaten, broken, burnt husk that had once been the fire sorceress. Surprisingly, it hadn't been the shattered bones that had gotten her. Nor had it been the multiple ruptured organs. No, in the end, what had killed Cinder Fall was, ironically, fire. Fire that had burned her alive, from the inside out.

Blake continued cleaning Yang's wounds in silence. She wanted to know what Yang was thinking, but she had talked enough tonight. Her partner needed time to think for now.

After a time in which the water in the basin became muddied by blood and grime, Blake placed one last adhesive bandage over the smallest of the gashes in Yang's back.

She gathered up the supplies and put them away, dumping out the dirty water into the sink. She turned to find Yang still facing the opposite direction. Blake grabbed a blanket from another cabinet and walked up behind her. She slid the cloth around her, and realized that the brawler wasn't even awake anymore. Her head hung and hands folded in her lap, her breaths came slow and steady. She looked so small, so _lost _without that anger etched into the lines on her face. Blake wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her head against her chest, burying her face in her partner's blond locks.

It killed her, seeing Yang like this, a shell of what she used to be, isolated from everyone she loved. She felt the blonde shiver, and a small whimper escaped her lips, causing Blake to hold her tighter. She swore right there that she would never again leave Yang's side. Not until she was through this, and back to who she was. She would do whatever it took.

Weiss, at one point, had asked Blake why she went so far for Yang. Why would she give so much to someone who would return none of it?

Her answer had left the heiress speechless. If Blake had known that three little words could have that effect, she may have told her sooner. There were the same three words that Blake had realized years ago, even before the Siege.

"_I love her._"

Blake Belladonna was hopelessly, helplessly in love with Yang Xiao Long. Even after Ruby's death and Yang's subsequent disappearance and isolation, those feelings had never flagged. If anything, they had grown stronger. She had wanted to tell her partner that night four years ago, before the final battle, but Yang hadn't let her, telling her to "tell me after this is all said and done." She had been content to wait, because at the time, a situation like the current one had never even factored in as a possibility. Back then, they had all thought they would either live or die together. None of them had honestly believed any just one of them wouldn't make it, let alone Ruby.

Blake gently pressed a kiss to the top of Yang's head. But it _had_ happened, and here they were. She would do the best for the woman she loved, no matter how much it cost her. She shifted, hooking her one arm underneath the brawler's knees, and lifted her up bridal style. Carrying her partner as lightly as she could to avoid waking her, Blake departed for the blonde's room.

As she walked the _Shadowswift's _narrow corridors, her mind returned to Yang's scar, and the events that had occurred that had led up to where they were now.

Things had been a mess after the Siege ended. Ozpin had done his best to maintain some semblance of order, and with the Beacon staff at his back, it hadn't taken long to reclaim the city from Junior's men. The survivors had their injuries tended to, and were returned to their dorms while their professors dealt with the aftermath of the battle. The dead were gathered and accounted for, a list compiled of families that needed contacting. Ozpin sent out a hunting party to find Ruby's remains, if there were any. They came back empty-handed, having found no trace of either the young huntress or the Deathstalker's corpse; Cinder had incinerated them entirely.

A week blurred by for the remnants of Team RWBY. They barely ate, barely slept, barely spoke, huddling together in the same bunk during the nights. The shock was still too great. It had been the day before Ruby's funeral that things had taken a turn for the absolute worst. Blake and Weiss had woken to find Yang missing from their shared bed. They weren't particularly worried at first. The blonde slept even less than them, so her being awake sooner was no surprise. The worry began when they couldn't find her when it came time to depart for Vacuo for Ruby's funeral the next day. They convinced themselves that she had left ahead of them, wanting to arrive for her sister's funeral as early as possible.

Of course, Yang wasn't there.

That's when the panic set in. Both of them frantically tried reaching her scroll, but no messages got through, and the two of them began to assume the worst.

It was a few days more before the first reports of fires breaking out in Vale reached their ears via Ozpin. Blake remembered feeling relieved then. She knew without a doubt that it was Yang. All of the torched places were well-known gang hideouts, owned and operated by the Xiong family. She was just blowing off steam, Blake figured. Venting her anger and pain through violence the way she had the first day after Ruby's death. She had been so wrong. She realized as such whenever both Junior and Senior Xiong ended up in the hospital with multiple broken bones, severe burns, and, in Junior's case, a crushed testicle.

It had taken only a small amount of persuasion for the two men to reveal that Yang had confronted them, demanding to know where Cinder and Roman were. They told them how, when they refused to answer, Yang had _beaten_ the information out of them, not stopping even after they had given up Cinder's location. Roman's whereabouts were a mystery even to them.

Another month and a half of anxious waiting had followed that. Blake knew that Yang was going after Cinder by herself, and she was petrified that everyday Ozpin was going to call her to his office to let her known they had found Yang's charred corpse. Whenever he did finally call her and Weiss, it was for an entirely different yet similar reason. He started by telling them that Yang had returned to Vale, alive. Blake had been so unbelievably relieved that she almost didn't hear the next piece of news.

"_We've also found Cinder Fall," Ozpin's voice was grave, his mood not at all befitting the news he had just delivered. Blake opened her mouth to say something, but Ozpin continued before she could, "However," amber eyes boring into her own to drive home the next statement, "Yang found her first." He laid a folder open in front of them, and the pictures it contained made Blake's head spin._

They had known about the existence of the organization behind the attack on Beacon by that point, so Blake fully understand that they had lost one of the only two solid connections they knew of. They _had_ to find Roman before Yang did. She determined that she would talk to her partner about it, and she patiently awaited Yang's arrival back to Beacon. After two weeks, though, she decided to go see her instead, figuring that perhaps she wasn't quite ready for a return to the school. After what happened, Blake would understand.

The truth she found, though, shattered her heart. Yang was not Yang anymore. She was wholly changed into a cold, rage-driven beast who drank away her frustrations and pain nightly. She wasn't even a shadow of who she used to be, and despite everything Blake tried, she never acknowledged her, never reacted. It had been after that first encounter that she had first picked up her habit of smoking to calm her nerves. She had refused to give up, though, continuing to visit at least once a week, even managing to bring along members of Team JNPR once or twice. Weiss had adamantly refused, but Blake still remained undiscouraged. As her time remaining at Beacon grew shorter, the time in between her visits grew longer. When she graduated and became an operative, the number dropped to three or four times a year.

Every time, she tried to bring back her Yang. Every time, she failed.

But she had never given up.

Blake glanced down at the sleeping woman in her arms.

She still hadn't.

And she'd be _damned_ if she did now.

* * *

**A/N:** Look who's on time this week! Woohoo!

So, what'd you guys think? The alternate title for this chapter is just "**EMOTIONS**"

I did warn you that it was gonna be heavy, and I certainly hope everything carried over well. We got to see what impact Yang's actions have had outside of the immediate issues, primarily in terms of Blake. I had a lot of Blake's dialogue in this chapter planned out since before I started writing _Ruin_, if you can believe that, hahah. Anyway, yes, a little bit of exposition detailing exactly what happened with Yang, and the gruesome details of Cinder's death!_  
_

We're gonna be seeing a few old faces next chapter, so look forward to it!

Please review, my friends! I love all of you :D

Until next chapter!

**EDIT: **Because I entirely forgot to mention it before. I've finished Weiss' character design, for those of you who aren't on the subreddit. It's up over on my deviantart page, so check it out if/when you get the chance and let me know what you think


	7. Looking Back, Moving Forward

Looking Back, Moving Forward

Blake watched as Yang twisted in her sleep again, a small moan escaping her lips. She had been observing the woman for a while now, and she had never been still for more than ten minutes. Clearly Blake wasn't the only one who suffered from horrible nightmares. She thought about waking her up, but frankly, the less time Yang spent awake before they reached Beacon, the better. Less time awake meant less time to think, which meant less time to get upset.

They were about thirty minutes out, so Blake could let her sleep for a bit longer, at least. It seemed Yang didn't have the patience to wait for Blake's call though, as her eyes promptly shot open. Lilac irises blearily focused on the ceiling above her, and the faunus noted a small look of confusion knitted her brow.

"Afternoon, Yang." The blonde glanced at her. "Are you alright?"

Yang pushed herself into a sitting position. "Fine," she murmured. She ran a hand through thick, golden locks and glanced around the cabin, noting its size and décor. "This…is not my room…"

"No," Blake confirmed, "it's mine. Figured you could do with a real bed after yesterday."

The brawler glanced down at the mattress she was on, suddenly realizing how _nice_ it felt. "Where'd you sleep?"

Blake jerked her head backward, toward the couch set against the right-hand wall. "You'd be surprised how comfortable that thing is."

Silence reigned for a moment before Yang broke it with a question. "What's the situation?"

"We're about…" she glanced down at her scroll resting in her lap, "twenty-seven minutes out from Beacon. I've let Ozpin know we'll be there shortly. He wants to meet with us as soon as we touch down." Yang opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced as Blake handed her a small pile of clothes and a stern look which blatantly told her not to complain. Yang took the clothes, realizing that the only thing covering her torso was a thin black sheet. "Your shirt and jacket have been cleaned and patched up. How're your wounds feeling?"

Yang realized that she hadn't even considered her injuries after awaking. She gave her shoulders an experimental roll. Her muscles clenched and unclenched reluctantly, but there was no horrible stab of pain. "Stiff, but they don't hurt. What did you do?"

"Healing salve, compliments of the Schnee Dust Company. Can fix up most injuries in a day or two. Expensive as hell, but worth every lien. Of course, knowing one of the major people who helped develop it means I get it pretty cheap."

Yang 'hmmed' distractedly and stared at the clothes in her lap, mind working back through everything that had happened the previous day. Amazingly, it was not visiting her sister's grave or her failed attempt at revenge that held prominence. What stuck out most to her was Blake's tirade. Every single one of the Huntress' words had cut Yang deep and hard. As they had tumbled angrily from Blake's mouth, Yang had felt something inside of her moving. It was slow and sluggish, but it was there. It was like the layers and layers of rage, pain, and anger she had frozen up around herself for the past four years were being thawed. It was strange, finding out that underneath all of it, she was still alive, that she could still _feel_.

She wasn't quite what to do with it, but she did know that it was because of Blake. And she knew that everything she had done to the brunette was wrong. She made a decision to try and be better to Blake…to her _partner_. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Yang bowed her head, letting her hair fall over her eyes. "I'm sorry," she breathed in a voice so quiet only she could hear it. Blake's second set of ears picked it up though, and her eyes grew wide.

Had she heard that correctly? Had Yang just _apologized_ to her? "For-," stunned as she was, Blake's voice failed her momentarily. "For what?"

"Everything. For leaving."

Blake could do nothing but stare at Yang as her words sunk in. Warmth which she hadn't experienced for four years blossomed in her chest, and spread throughout her body. A smile slowly slid across her face, and she didn't even attempt to hide it. There, in front of her, was her Yang. Not completely, not yet, but she was there. She was buried beneath a mountain of pain still, but there were cracks, and through them, Blake caught glimpses of the shining supernova that had been her partner. She leaned forward gently resting her forehead again Yang's, and forcing the blonde to meet her eyes.

"I'm right here," Blake said quietly. "I will _stay_ right here." She reached out and grasped Yang's hand. The woman flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. "We'll get through it together." Gold stared into lilac, and vice versa, for a silent minute. "C'mon, you need a shower before we get there," Blake finally commented. She pulled Yang to her feet and gave her a light shove towards the small shower section in the corner of the room. "Make it fast; I'll need time to reapply your bandages."

Yang didn't protest. A hot shower sounded really good right about now. It would give her time to think about where to go from here, and to figure out how she was going to deal with Ozpin when they met him face to face.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later found the _Shadowshift_ touching down lightly on the intricate stonework of Beacon Academy's airdocks. After Blake dismissed her crew for a day of free time, she and Yang departed the ship. The instant her booted foot touched the grey stone, though, it occurred to Yang that she had made a mistake.

She had been focusing on what she was going to do, or not do, whenever she came face to face with Ozpin. She still burned in anger at the mere thought of him, and figured if she didn't want to fly off the handle like she had with Roman, she'd need to get herself in the proper state of mind to suppress, at the very least, her more violent impulses. As her eyes scanned the open area of the docks and the towering spires of Beacon impaling the sky, though, she felt her stomach roil sickeningly. The school's namesake seemed to wink at her from its position high atop the central tower, and Yang realized that she had been preparing herself for the wrong thing.

Rather than its headmaster, she should have been preparing herself for _Beacon_.

The school itself felt like it was attacking her. The very air vibrated with a stifling thickness that pressed on her chest and made it hard to breathe. Images and memories flashed through her head. Fire, screams, blood, _Ruby._ Her eyes landed on an area to her right, along the Cliffside, where an entire section of the landing pads was missing. The area around it was scorched, the stone melted by an intense heat. Yang's breathing stopped, and she could hear her heart march loudly through her ears as she saw that horrible scene play out before her once again.

Her little sister slumped on the Deathstalker's corpse, blood pouring from her tiny frame, holding tightly to Crescent Rose as she tried, and failed, to rise. Cinder beginning to glow, and then unleashing that awful wave of fire. Yang watched in horror as those flames burned the very air, bubbled the concrete they passed over, and seared the world behind them black. She choked back a sob as the fire slammed into Ruby with so much force the ground beneath her shattered, and she disappeared into the abyss, the fire consuming all traces of her.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and Yang turned to find Blake watching her with concern. She could tell by the pain in her partner's eyes that she was not the only one who had just relived Ruby's death. Yang took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as her partner's hand squeezed lightly. She looked at Blake and nodded, and the faunus gave her the faintest of smiles in return as she withdrew her arm. They set out toward the school, Yang focusing her gaze strictly on the ground in front of her. She didn't want to chance seeing anymore of the scars left by the Siege. The air by itself was enough to stir a familiar despair in her chest and make her feel like fleeing back to the _Shadowshift_ and curling into a ball. Any visual reminders would surely bring her to her knees.

There were very few people on campus. As it was still early afternoon, most of the students and teachers were probably in classes, something for which both girls were wholly appreciative. Still, there were a few professors scattered throughout Beacon's many pathways, and even a student or two. Blake avoided them as best she could, knowing that Yang would want to limit contact as much as possible. She may have been starting to come back to what she was, but given how she had acted around her crew before they left the _Swift_, Blake figured that, for the moment at least, that new attitude was reserved solely for her.

"Ms. Belladonna!" A voice suddenly called out, and Blake froze and grit her teeth. She turned to confront the caller, a short man with a head of spiky green hair. His appearance was disheveled and uneven, and in his hand he carried an open thermos. He continued in a hurried voice, "Though I suppose it's Agent Belladonna now. Never can seem to remember that."

She forced a smile. "Hello, Professor Oobleck. How are you?"

"Wonderful, simply wonderful. How about you, my dear? Back from another successful mission abroad, are we?"

"Yes, well, sort of. Actually, we're going to talk to Professor Ozpin right now so-"

Oobleck talked over her as if she hadn't even spoken. "And who's this? You're not one for company nowadays, Ms. Belladonna." He zipped around her before she could say a word. When he realized who accompanied her, his glasses slipped down his nose, revealing eyes wide with surprise. "Great Vytalian Tomes! Ms. Xiao Long?" Yang didn't reply, eyes glued to her feet. "So you've finally decided to return! Oh this is splendid!" Blake noticed Yang's fists were clenched so tightly her arms were trembling. "Some of us were beginning to lose hope of seeing you again. After the Siege-"

Yang could take no more. Her head snapped up, lips pulled back in a snarl. A scathing insult was halfway up her throat whenever a new voice cut Oobleck off, this one strong and commanding. "That's enough, Bartholomew." With a sharp clacking of heels, Glynda Goodwitch strode up to the trio. Her cape fluttered restlessly behind her, green eyes glinting behind her glasses. She looked exactly how Yang remembered her, including the royal-sized stick up her ass. "Professor has asked to meet with these two immediately, so you'll have to forgive them for not stopping to chat."

"Right, of course. My apologies, Glynda. Farewell, Ms. Belladonna. It was good to see you again, Ms. Xiao Long. Feel free to drop by anytime." And with that, the energetic man was gone.

Blake sighed quietly in relief at his departure. She turned to the older woman. "Thanks, Professor. I'm not really sure how to stop him once he gets going."

Glynda nodded, but her gaze was pinned to Yang, who glared right back, the edges of her irises stained a light red. She hadn't forgotten being subdued by the Huntress after the final battle. More than that though, she was the closest person to Ozpin, and by default, that meant Yang was displeased with everything about her.

"Ms. Xiao Long," she greeted tersely.

"Goodbitch." Yang was pleased to see the other woman clench her jaw.

Glynda turned to Blake. "Professor Ozpin is waiting for you in his office. I have a class to escort into Forever Fall, so you'll have to see yourself there."

"We can manage. Thank you, professor." Glynda inclined her head, and with one last mildly reproachful look at Yang, walked away.

When she was out of earshot, Blake spoke, "I wish you wouldn't antagonize her."

Yang 'hmphed' before turning and resuming her way to the headmaster's office. Blake exhaled in exasperation before following. Fortunately, the rest of the walk to the Ozpin's room was uneventful. Blake rapped firmly on the tall, thick doors of dark wood.

"Come in," a voice muffled voice called from the other side, and Yang felt her stomach curdle a bit.

Blake sent her a brief look of assurance before pushing open the door and stepping through. Yang took a moment to gather herself before doing the same.

The office looked pretty much the same as she remembered it from the last time she had been in here, when Ozpin had reprimanded her for roughing up a few seniors who had been making fun of her sister. The large room was furnished cozily with dark wood panels and a thick, forest green rug with the Beacon sigil emblazoned in white at its center. At the back of the room was a large curving desk, piled high with various files. The right-side was dominated by a large computer screen. The back wall had three arched windows set in it, two smaller ones flanking a taller, wider one. The wall to their left was filled corner to corner with bookshelves overflowing with books. There were so many that the that the table beneath the left hand was covered in haphazard stacks of them as well. On their right was a short table, a few filing cabinets, three wooden chairs, and several shelves bolted to the wall, cluttered with all sorts of different knickknacks.

Yang focused on the man behind the desk, sitting perfectly straight, mug in hand. He looked a little older than he had when last she had seen him, the lines on his face a bit deeper, but for the most part, he was the same. Right down that _fucking mug._

Ozpin slid smoothly to his feet. "Ah, Agent Belladonna, I've been expecting you." He turned to Yang and, ignoring her glare, greeted her, "Ms. Xiao Long. It is good to see you again." He tone was warm, and try as she might, Yang could detect no hidden malice or back-handed undertones. As far as she could tell, he was being perfectly sincere. She didn't reply though, figuring that the best way to avoid screaming at the man was to just say nothing. For Blake's sake, if nothing else.

Blake saluted briefly. "You wanted to talk with us, sir?" She didn't bother stating how obvious it was that he would wish to speak to them.

Ozpin took a sip from his mug, and for some reason that made Yang's rage flair. She clenched her fists and bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing her anger. "I did, and I apologize for not giving you anytime to rest. However, from the brief summary you sent me already, I gathered that time is of the essence." Blake nodded. "On that note, I would like to hear your full mission report." Blake took a deep breath before giving the full story of their failed mission. When she finished Ozpin raised his glass to his lips in contemplative silence.

"Where is he now?" He finally asked.

"The tracker stopped moving this morning. He's in Atlas." She pulled out her scroll, slid it open and tapped a few buttons. "It's still transmitting too, which means he probably hasn't noticed it yet."

"Returning here to rest and acquire reinforcements was a good call. Roman is most likely anticipating some sort of pursuit. Even if he believes he successfully dealt with you in Ashfall, he will be ready now that he knows he can be found." Again, Yang heard no accusation in his voice. He saw the situation for what it was rather than dwelling on who to blame for it. Ozpin leaned forward, setting down his mug and interlacing his fingers in front of his face. "As such, I am expanding the taskforce assigned to this operation. I shall send a message to Ms. Schnee immediately to inform her of the situation."

Blake smiled. It had been a few months since she had seen her white-haired teammate, and she missed her dearly. Aside from that, Weiss, and those with her, would prove an invaluable asset. "Thank you, sir."

"Additionally, I would like to recommend you take Beacon's Spear and Shield with you."

Blake's brow furrowed. "They're back? Since when?"

"They returned late last night."

"A week earlier than expected." Blake shook her head. "I swear they're getting scarier and scarier."

A small smile pulled at Ozpin's mouth. "I'll leave it to you two to explain the situation to them."

"Yes, sir."

"I wish you both luck." Taking that as a dismissal, Yang spun on her heel and yanked the door open hard enough she heard the hinges groan. She needed out; holding herself back this whole time had taken its toll. She didn't really care about the details of the mission, she just wanted to _go. _

The brawler was halfway out the door, Blake a few steps behind, when Ozpin spoke once more.

"Agent Belladonna," he said, "a moment, if you will."

Blake looked at Yang, silently letting her know that it was okay. The blonde glanced between her partner and the headmaster unsurely, before nodding and slipping out the door, shutting it behind her with more force than was necessary.

As soon as the latch had clicked, Ozpin let out a long sigh. "Blake," he began tiredly. "I thought I specifically told you _not_ to involve Yang."

"Must have missed that part of the briefing," she commented with a small quirk of her lips.

Ozpin pushed his glasses up his nose and narrowed his eyes mildly, clearly unamused. "She's too unstable, Blake. I was afraid she could ruin the operation, and it looks like my fears were justified."

"I know, Professor, but…I couldn't just leave her behind. She deserved a shot at Roman more than anyone."

"That reasoning may have fooled her, Blake, but it will not do the same to me. I know you are smart enough to understand that Yang does not have an exclusive right to revenge on Roman. What about all of the people whose family members perished in the Grimm assault? Those students that lost teammates in the Siege? Weiss? _Velvet_?" Amber eyes fixed on her golden ones. "I know Ruby was dear to you, but do not belittle her sacrifice by using it to excuse your own whims."

Blake flinched and hung her head. Ozpin's words struck hard truth. Blake had been trying to convince herself that risking the entire operation by bringing Yang with her was justified by the tragedies she had endured as a direct result of Roman's actions. She had silenced the logical voice in her head that had called her on that lie. In reality, the reason she had gone out of her way to enlist Yang's help was something much simpler. "I've…I've managed to bring her back. Just a bit," Blake said weakly.

Ozpin nodded before leaning back in his chair. "I understand your desire to help her, Blake. I admire it, even. The issue is that this has now interfered with our work, and set us back a step that we cannot afford. Roman is our only lead left. If we lose him, then we lose our biggest chance at routing this organization and putting a stop to their plans, whatever they may be." He reached for his mug, but found it empty. With a sigh, he set it back down. "I advised you against contacting Yang because she is too unpredictable at a time when we cannot afford any missteps. She is driven purely by a desire for revenge, and will throw away whatever is necessary in order to achieve it. Look at what she did to Cinder, or Team CRDL."

"CRDL was not her fault. Sky and Russel died during the Siege."

He fixed her with a look that clearly said to stop skirting the issue. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. If Professor Goodwitch had not found her in time, she would have killed Cardinal and Dove that first day after Ruby's death as well. As it stands, Cardin will never walk again, and Dove's mind will most likely remain broken for the rest of his life."

"No less than they deserved," Blake murmured, but closed her mouth when Ozpin gave her a hard stare.

"What they did or did not deserve is beside the point. Yang is dangerous, and currently mentally unstable." He closed his eyes for a moment before focusing them back on her. "I know you're not going to send her away just because I recommend it. She may continue to travel with you for the time being, but the next time she causes trouble or interferes, she will immediately be removed from the situation and disallowed any and all access to Beacon and all related subjects. Is that clear, Agent Belladonna?"

Blake stiffened her spine and clasped her hands behind her back in response to the formal title. "Crystal, sir," she said smoothly.

Ozpin's face softened. "Be careful, Blake. I have a feeling things are only going to get more dangerous for us henceforth."

"I'll be fine, Professor."

He nodded at her. "Dismissed, Agent Belladonna. I'll be expecting an update when you reach Atlas."

Blake spun on her heel and left the office, closing the door softly behind her. She took a moment to close her eyes and sigh. _More dangerous, huh? What else is new?_

"Blake?" Golden irises opened up and turned to face the blonde woman sat in a chair against the corridor's wall. "What'd he want?"

Blake shook her head to Yang's question. "Nothing important, just to go over a few details from the report." She started walking. "C'mon, let's go to the alumni dorms. We've got a couple of lovebirds to surprise."

* * *

**A/N: **Woot! Next chapter! On time once more! Double points!

So, what did we all think? You _finally_ get to find out what happened to Cardin/Dove. Sorry to all of you who were hoping they were dead ten times over. Anyway, I liked a lot of the dialogue in this chapter, especially Ozpin's. Seriously, the 'don't belittle her sacrifice' line came out of nowhere, but I loved it the instant I wrote it.

Anyway, everyone's favorite ice queen will be making an appearance next chapter, among many others. Consider the beginning of the second arc of the story, and with it we see a change in Yang. Not monumental, but the beginnings of it

To all of you who do not frequent the subreddit, Ren's design is up over on my DA account, so please go check him out if you'd like.

As always, I love all of you. Please drop me a review, and let me know what you think


	8. Ice and Fire

Ice and Fire

Heeled white boots clacked sharply as she strode through the grey tiled corridor. Her ice-blue eyes were glued to the holo-tablet tucked in the crook of her arm, scanning over the lines of text scrolled across its transparent surface. She cut an intimidating figure, dressed in light-grey slacks and a tailed ash vest with a crisp, high-collared, blue jacket that ended at her ribcage thrown over top. A tattered red cloth held up her hair in a high ponytail that was a far cry from how she used to wear it. It was shorter, reaching only her shoulders, and was no longer off to one side of her head.

The rapier and short-saber sheathed at her hips rattled faintly as she turned a corner without looking up, the route she was taking long since committed to subconscious memory. The few people she passed in the hallways moved out of her way without a word, bowing their heads slightly as she passed. She acknowledged none of them as she passed, fully engrossed in her reading. This didn't bother any of them, though.

After all, as Vice President of the Schnee Dust Company, Weiss Schnee was an incredibly busy woman.

Weiss reached her destination after a few more twists and turns. The frosted glass doors slid open with a hiss at her approach, and the two burly men dressed in black posted to either side snapped to attention as she passed. The room she entered was large and lavish. The carpet was a dark gray, flecked with bits of blue and white. To the right side was a large, glossy black desk, behind which sat a young faunus woman in a sharply cut burgundy suit. To the left, against a wall of glass that overlooked a sprawling metropolis, were four leather-upholstered chairs surrounding a low table with a glass top. The wall opposite the door was constructed of large panels of dark wood, and there was a sleek set of double doors set almost seamlessly within it.

The faunus' large rabbit ears twitched in response to her entrance, and she looked up as Weiss walked in. "Weiss," she called to the other woman, but got no response as she continued right through to the other doors. "Weiss, you have-" she tried again, rising slightly from her seat, but her silver-haired boss was already disappearing into her office.

Velvet Scarlatina sighed exasperatedly. "Oh well," she mumbled to herself, sitting down again and turning her eyes back to the computer screen before her. She brushed back a strand of long, brown hair, and smiled slightly. "I did try and warn her."

Situated on the second-to-top floor of the Schnee Dust Company's headquarters building, Weiss' office held a spectacular view of Atlas. The city stretched for miles in every direction, a concrete and steel jungle of towering skyscrapers and dark alleys. Both the back and left walls were constructed of glass, allowing the city to be seen in its full splendor. The carpet in here was the same as that in her outer-office. There was a soft-looking couch set against the right hand wall, flanked by end-tables of the same dark wood of the doors. Beside that were a few grey filing cabinets. Immediately to the left of the entrance was a large bookcase, followed by another couch, and then some sort of potted plant in the corner that Velvet had insisted she buy. Hanging on the wall to the right of the door were various plaques, accolades, and awards, all framed and hung neatly. Weiss' desk, made in the same sleek manner as Velvet's, rested in the center of the room, toward the back wall.

Weiss stepped around its edge, and set her tablet down on top of it. The smart surface interfaced with it immediately. A holographic display appeared at eye-level, a blown up version of what had been on the device. She removed her sword belt and hung it on a hook on the side of the desk with practiced ease before sliding into the black, leather chair. A keyboard lit up beneath her fingers, and she began furiously typing a response to the document she had been reading this entire time. So engrossed she was in this action that she didn't notice there were two people in the room with her, seated on the couch in the corner.

They waited for her to notice, but upon realizing that that didn't seem a likely possibility, one of them decided to take matters into their own hands. Weiss showed no reaction as the person approached her desk, nor when they took a deep breath and raised their hands above their head.

When those hands came hurtling back down, though, loudly smacking the top of her desk, accompanied by an enthusiastically sung, "Hellooooooo!" Weiss jumped several inches out of her chair in startled surprise. The carefully constructed sentence she'd been in the midst of typing became a jumbled mess of letters as her hand spasmed across the keyboard in time with her furiously pounding heart. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she grit her teeth and raised her head, preparing to verbally _eviscerate_ whoever it was that had interrupted her.

The scathing words died in her throat as she met wide, aquamarine eyes framed by bright ginger hair and an impossibly wide smile.

"Nora?" Weiss asked incredulously, and the other woman's smile somehow got bigger.

"Hi, Weiss!"

"Why are you-Where's…" her gaze slid behind the Huntress dancing excitedly from foot to foot to the couch behind her, seeing the woman's green-clad partner resting quietly on it. "Ren."

He nodded at her. "Weiss."

"When did you two get here?" She rotated her chair to face them fully, the computer screen forgotten for another time.

"_Forever_ ago," Nora complained, pressing herself into one of the two lavish seats in front of Weiss' desk.

Ren sighed as he stood and walked forward to take the other. "We arrived in the city about an hour ago," he corrected. "We've been waiting here for twenty minutes."

"I hope none of my staff gave you any trouble."

"Nope," Nora commented cheerily. "Velvet got us right up here without any issues."

"Speaking of which…" Weiss reached out and pressed a small button. "Velvet-"

"I tried to tell you, Weiss," the faunus woman interrupted her through the speakers. She was perhaps the only one of Weiss's employees who would dare to do so, and probably the only one who called her by her first name. Being Weiss' teammate allotted her some special privileges. "You were too wrapped up in that merger proposal to hear me, though," she said lightly.

"Yes, well…"

"Call me if you need anything else," Velvet chuckled.

Weiss removed her finger from the button. Velvet had certainly changed from their time in Beacon. No longer the shy, timid girl who hid behind others, she was now strong, kind, and outspoken. Of course, Weiss mused to herself, coming back from vacation to find that your closest friends had been viciously slaughtered would certainly change a person. Most people would have gone the opposite direction than Velvet had, however. She honestly didn't know how the young woman did it. The members of Team RWBY had all but fallen apart after losing just one of their numbers. If it had been more, if Weiss had lost all three of her teammates like Velvet had…

No one could ever claim Velvet Scarlatina was weak. Not without Weiss divorcing their head from their shoulders, at any rate. _Maybe that's why I insisted she be my assistant; I need all the strength I can get._

Her thoughts returned to the present as Nora laughed. Ren, as usual, remained quiet, his face the perpetually stoic mask it always was. Velvet wasn't the only one who had changed, Weiss thought. Ren had never been one for speaking up or expressing himself, but ever since the Siege, the young man had grown even more quiet, talking only the bare minimum or when keeping Nora's antics under control, the latter for which Weiss was eternally grateful. The hyperactive girl had developed a rather annoying game in their senior year she had enthusiastically named _"Sproing!"_ that involved playing with Weiss' still-long hair in the most aggravating way. Ren had quickly put an end to it, thankfully.

Other than that, though, the young Huntsman kept to himself. Maybe it was different when he was with his team, but from everything Weiss saw, Ren seemed even more inaccessible than he had been when they originally met. She knew he hadn't gone the way of _her_ onetime teammate, as she could still detect emotion when he spoke, but still, she hadn't seen him smile for years, not even for Nora.

"Well…" Weiss trailed off for a moment before allowing a small smile to pull at her mouth. "It's good to see you both." It had been months since she seen either Team JNPR or Blake, and she missed them all quite a bit.

"We missed you, too!" Nora said cheekily, as if reading her mind.

"It's good to see you as well," Ren replied. He studied her for a moment before saying, "You look tired, Weiss."

She dismissed his statement with a wave, "Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine."

Ren glanced around the room. "Where's your bodyguard? I figured he'd be her, too."

"I've sent him to investigate another possible hideout."

Ren sighed again. "I feel you've misunderstood the point of a bodyguard. You're supposed to keep them close to your _body_, so that they can _guard _it."

Weiss met his magenta eyes with narrowed, ice-blue ones while Nora laughed beside him. "I can take care of myself, Ren. Besides, he knew you two were going to be here."

He raised an eyebrow. "_We_ didn't even know we were going to be here until this morning, Weiss. I told you we'd make it if our mission concluded timely. How exactly did _he_ know?"

Weiss glanced away, avoiding the slightly accusing glint in Ren's eyes. "I…may have manipulated the truth a bit."

"Oh, he's not going to be happy."

Nora giggled. "Still though, I'm surprised he was willing to leave his precious _Snowflake_ in somebody else's care."

Weiss felt her cheeks turn a bright red, and she glared at the other woman. As she opened her mouth to retort, though, a soft _ding _sounded from inside her vest, where she kept her personal scroll. Only friends and acquaintances had its address, and she only ever used it for non-work related conversation. "You," she pointed a finger at Nora as her other hand slid into her vest to retrieve the device. "Do not think this is finished," she warned. Nora just smirked at her. Weiss slid open the pale blue scroll, and found a small bubble insistently jumping up and down in the corner, indicating she had a new message. She pressed the icon, and was surprised to find that it was from Ozpin.

Ren and Nora watched as her face grew darker and darker with each passing second as she read. When she had finished she sat there for a moment before closing her scroll and returning it to her pocket. She pressed the button for Velvet again.

"Velvet?" Her voice was low, almost angry.

"Yes, Weiss?"

"What do I have scheduled for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Hmm…" a moment of silence followed while Velvet presumably pulled up the next day's itinerary. "Tomorrow you've got an inspection of mining facility #5 at nine and lunch with your father at noon."

"Good, so I won't be missing anything important. Cancel them both. We'll reschedule the inspection when next we get the chance."

"Your father-"

"Can go fuck himself, and I'll tell him as much to his face if he says anything. I'm taking a temporary leave of absence. Ms. Spektra will be taking over all my duties until I return. Understood?"

There was no reply from the intercom, but a moment later the door to Weiss' office opened, Velvet leaning against the doorframe. "I understand, Weiss, but what's going on?" It had been a long time since Velvet had seen her friend this worked up. Nora leaned in and Ren watched closely, his own interest piqued.

"I got a message from Ozpin," Weiss said quietly.

"A mission?" Ren asked.

"More of an…operation. Roman's here."

That simple statement had a massive impact. Time in the room seemed to halt, the occupants frozen as those words sunk in.

"He's here?" Ren asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Beside him, Nora's smile was gone, her eyes hard. "In Atlas?"

Weiss nodded. "According to Ozpin."

"How? Why?"

"I don't know, but Ozpin's requesting my help, since I'm already here. I suppose its luck that you are both here too." She looked at them. "Asking you to help out with the crime problem we're having appears to have been one of my better decisions."

"Seems that way." Ren's face was serious, his voice cold and hard. "When do we move?"

"Tomorrow." Weiss looked up at her teammate, whose head was bowed. She noticed that the young faunus was trembling. "Velvet..." she said gently.

"I'm fine, Weiss," came the tremulous reply. "Don't worry, I'll stay here, keep the company running, keep Spektra in line." She swallowed. "I'll get my network out too, see if I can't pick anything up that will help you guys."

Weiss smiled gently at her. "Thank you." She knew how much it must be tearing at the Huntresses' heart, learning that the man partially responsible for the death of her teammates was so close. She wasn't going to question why the other woman didn't want to join the operation, because quite frankly she herself felt like running away. She felt that familiar, hollow ache in her chest as thoughts of her leader flitted through her mind. Weiss pulled herself from her chair before she could sink any further into her thoughts, though. She had been down that road _far_ too many times in the past four years. "I promise I'll keep you informed, Velvet."

"And I'll let you know if anything pops."

Weiss nodded and strapped her sword back around her waist, adjusting it until her weapons rested just where she liked them. "Come," she spoke as she moved to the door, "we've got preparations to make."

"Preparations?" Nora asked with a small tilt of her head and both she and Ren rose from their seats.

"Yes," Weiss said tersely through gritted teeth, remembering the other part of Ozpin's message. "It appears we're going to have some visitors."

* * *

Yang was frozen, her wide eyes fixed unblinkingly to the dark stone statue towering over her. Blake didn't realize she had stopped for a few steps. When she did, she looked over her shoulder.

"Yang?" She rotated the rest of her body around when she got no response. She noticed her partner's gaze, and followed it back. "Ah, shit," she murmured quietly when she saw what exactly it was that had grabbed Yang's attention. She had seen it so many times that she honestly hadn't thought about it. It was a large boulder whose front was a flat, glossy surface, upon which several neat columns of names were inscribed. The whole thing was set in the center of a ring of paved stones and a circle of dirt that in the summer would be filled with various types of flowers. Atop the rock, carved delicately from marble, stood probably the last thing Yang wanted to see. Cloak swirling about her as she held her scythe diagonally across her back, the blade curving up behind her, Ruby Rose stood forever immortalized in exquisite detail.

Yang was having trouble breathing. It felt like something was resting heavily on her chest, crushing all the air from her lungs. It was one thing to have nightmares about her sister's death, to replay the scene over and over in her had. It was quite another entirely to be met with a likeness of Ruby so life-like she felt like she could reach out and grab her hand. Her little sister smiled gently down at her, and Yang felt her stomach retch and her legs tremble. Even if it wasn't really Ruby, she didn't deserve that smile. She had failed her. A hand slid onto her shoulder, but she didn't react.

"It's the memorial for the Siege," Blake said quietly from beside her.

Yang swallowed. "Why-" Her voice seized up.

"Because she led us through it. Without her, Beacon would have fallen, and there would be a lot more than fifty-three names on that list." Blake met the blank eyes of her friend and leader. "From here, she can do what she always wanted to; inspire and give hope to everyone who sees her." Blake's hand slid down her arm until she grabbed Yang's own, interlacing their fingers. "C'mon," she said gently, pulling Yang away from the memorial.

The blonde gave the statue one last, lingering look, before turning and bowing her head. They set off once more toward their destination, Yang squeezing Blake's hand tightly. She didn't mind.

It wasn't much longer before they reached the alumni dorms. Set along the northern edge of Beacon's campus, the grey brick, two-story buildings served as temporary housing for any visiting graduates and their teammates, if they had any; not every team stayed together after leaving Beacon. Each floor had a maximum capacity of two four-man cells, meaning between the five buildings, Beacon had the ability to house up to twenty full alumni teams at once. The layout was simple enough, one large living space with an attached kitchen and a bathroom on either side behind the kitchen. On both sides, across from the bathrooms, were rooms that were slightly larger than those found in the main dorms for current students, each with two bunk beds. There was plenty of space, and since there was never a large amount of returning alumni at once, most teams or individuals got entire floors to themselves.

If Blake remembered correctly, which wasn't really much of an 'if', then JNPR had been assigned to Dorm #2's first floor. She moved to the door and rapped lightly on the wood.

"Coming!" somebody called from within, and Yang let go of Blake's hand quickly. The faunus didn't say anything, though she immediately missed the warmth. A moment later the door opened, revealing a casually dressed Pyrrha Nikos. She was still in as good a shape as ever, Yang noted. And still as beautiful. She was wearing a maroon, slim-fitting cowl neck sweater and dark-washed jeans, and her crimson hair was gathered in a loose ponytail. Emerald eyes lit up in excitement when she noticed who was there. "Blake!" she exclaimed, pulling the other woman in for a tight hug.

"Hello, Pyrrha," Blake smiled as she returned the embrace. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise!" She pulled back. "It's been how long now?"

"A month or two, I think. How's the leg?"

Pyrrha snorted. "Still a pain in my ass," she reached down and tapped her left thigh with the back of her knuckles, and the muffled sound of metal responded. "Probably gonna have to switch in the Winter core soon; cold's been making it stiff lately. Speaking of which, what am I doing? Sorry! Come in!" She stepped back and opened the door wider. Blake stepped through first, letting out a small sigh of relief at the cozy warmth that filled the room.

That was when Pyrrha saw Yang.

Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open a little in surprise. "Yang?" she whispered, unbelieving.

The brawler didn't respond. She found she was unable to meet the Huntresses' gaze, and kept her head down. She nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot, not at all sure what to do with this situation. She hadn't thought of what meeting her old friends would be like.

Blake glanced between the two of them, anxiously chewing the inside of her cheek. She hadn't been sure how this was going to play out, to be honest. She was preparing to step in and suggest that maybe she should just come back herself later, when Pyrrha moved. She approached Yang slowly, before gently wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The blonde's head shot up in surprise, but Pyrrha took no note.

"P-Pyrrha?" Yang stuttered, completely caught off guard by her friend's actions.

"We missed you," Pyrrha said quietly, still holding onto her tightly. Those words struck Yang, and there was a sharp stab in her chest.

"I…um…"

Pyrrha pulled away and held Yang out at arm's length, a kind smile on her face. "It's good to see you, Yang."

"I…y-you too…" The funny thing was, as much as she was saying it so that Pyrrha would just _let her go_, she found that she actually meant it. It was…_good_ to see Pyrrha. Hugging notwithstanding. She could see Blake watching the two women with a smile.

Pyrrha nodded before dropping her hands heading back into the room, towards the kitchen. "I was just about to have some hot spiced cider," she said over her shoulder. "Would you guys like some?"

Blake followed after her. "That sounds wonderful, Pyrrha, thank you."

Yang stood on the doorstep in silence, still hesitant, still unsure. "Yang," Pyrrha called, and her lilac eyes focused on her, "what are you still doing out there? Get in here!"

She stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her. Blake motioned for her, and Yang walked toward her.

The warmth spreading through her chest had nothing to do with the temperature.

* * *

**A/N: **See? Not all pain! Not all the time!

Whew, so that was a chapter. Lookit, everyone's coming back! whoooo!

Writing Weiss, Pyrrha, and the rest was really refreshing, I must admit. I love Blake and Yang, but everybody else is fun too, and this really opens up the character side of this story.

As for the chapter itself, I won't lie, it was initially supposed to be very different. Weiss' part was supposed to be the smaller section, but she really just went ahead and stole the show there, didn't she? I'll save the rest of the Yang/Blake/Pyrrha for next chapter.

So, little hints about some more stuff. Poor Velvet, huh? I was surprised no one wondered why Ozpin mentioned her during the whole revenge thing last chapter. Anyway, you now know why I designed Weiss the way I did. professional clothes and all that jazz. The real question, though, is what she's done while she's been VP. Weiss' got plenty of stuff left that we'll be finding out, like the deal with her father

Okay, I think that's enough ranting and shit on my end. Please, review and let me know what you guys thought of this chapter. I still love you (despite many of you claiming I don't)

Oh, 'fore I forget. Jaune's design is finished and up over on my DA account, same username as my one here

Until next time, my friends!


	9. Thawing

Thawing

A few minutes later found them all seated around the wooden dining table in the corner of the living area, three steaming glasses of cider sitting in front of them.

Yang threw hers back in one go, ignoring the incredulous looks of both Blake and Pyrrha. She let out a small sigh of contentment when she finished. She had forgotten just how good the Mistralian Huntress was at making the spiced liquid. They sat in silence for a few moments before Pyrrha finally broke it.

"So I take it you guys aren't here to give me Yang's RSVP?"

Blake shook her head. "Sadly no, we're here to recruit Beacon's Spear and Shield." At Pyrrha's questioning look, she added, "I'll explain when Jaune's here."

Pyrrha nodded, before noticing Yang seeming entirely confused by something. "Yang? Is something wrong?"

The blonde woman opened her mouth and closed it, before appearing to finally find her voice. "RSVP?"

Pyrrha lifted an eyebrow. "You're the only one who hasn't responded."

"To what?"

"Her scroll's been disconnected for years, Pyrrha, and I doubt she was listening to me when I told her last year."

"Told me _what?_" Yang asked through gritted teeth. She hated when people skirted a question instead of just answering it.

Pyrrha held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers, making the light dance off of something on her ring finger. It was only then that Yang noticed the beautiful gold band with a flawless emerald set in the top, flanked by two smaller garnets.

She gaped at it, wide-eyed. "You're getting married?!" The crimson-haired Huntress smiled and nodded. "To _who?_"

Beside her, Blake rolled her eyes. "Who do you think?" Yang looked at her, face still disbelieving. "Jaune, Yang. She's marrying Jaune." Yang's eyes somehow got even wider, and her jaw slackened somewhat in shock. Blake had to smile at that. It was good to see normal emotions back on her partner's face. "Speaking of," the faunus turned to look at Pyrrha, who was having her own little chuckle at Yang's reaction, "where is Beacon's mighty Shield?"

Pyrrha took a gulp of cider before answering, "Still in bed. He seemed pretty exhausted last night. I think I may have ridden him a little hard."

She lifted the mug back to her lips as Yang asked in a hesitant voice, "…on the mission?"

The other woman looked her square in the eye as she set her glass back down. "Sure," she said with a smirk, and Yang could not recall having ever seen Pyrrha look so _smug_.

While she sat there, trying to work through all of the information she'd just been presented, the door to the room closest to them opened, and out stumbled a spectacularly unclothed Jaune Arc. He had seemingly just woken up, judging by his bleary eyes and ruffled head of hair. It was longer now, Yang noted, reaching to the base of his neck. That wasn't the only thing that had changed about him, either. Dressed as he was in only a pair of white boxers with little red hearts, Yang got a good look at the rest of his body. She had to admit, it was fairly impressive.

Where once the young man had been lanky and thin, he was now tall and broad, with firm muscles toning his body. His baby face had hardened into strong features, and somehow the spattering of stubble on his chin only added to his appearance. Yang couldn't deny that Jaune had come into his own.

Aesthetically, anyway.

"Good morning, beautiful," Jaune yawned, stumbling toward them, the presence of the other women failing to pierce his sleep-ridden brain. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently to Pyrrha's.

Pyrrha was smiling when he pulled away. "Good morning yourself."

Jaune grinned at her. "Any chance of coffee?"

"I'll get a pot going while you grab a shower. Before that though, darling, don't you think you should say hello?"

His brow scrunched as he tried to decipher her words, before he glanced up at Blake and Yang. Blue irises grew to the size of plates.

Blake bit the inside of her cheek to keep from losing it. "Morning, Jaune," she said shakily, amusement bubbling behind her voice. The young Huntsman didn't react, instead turning to Yang as his mouth moved wordlessly.

Yang watched him silently, too many thoughts and words pouring through her head. She wasn't really sure what the best way to deal with this situation would be, so she just said the first thing that came to mind.

"Nice boxers."

Jaune's face turned the same color as the hearts on his underwear, and he bolted away into the bathroom with a small squeak. As soon as the door shut, Blake lost control. She grabbed her sides and leaned her forehead against the table, laughter shaking her whole body.

Yang looked at Pyrrha. "_That's_ what you're marrying?"

She looked at the bathroom with a small smirk. "I'll admit there's still some room for improvement," she stated lightly. Pyrrha stood and headed back into the kitchen. "Either of you want some coffee, or anything else?"

"Whiskey, if you have it," Yang said, but upon seeing Blake narrow her eyes at her, she mumbled, "I mean, coffee."

"Coming up." Pyrrha turned and began fiddling with the coffee maker. "You like it black, right? I remember that always horrified Ren."

"How is he?" Blake asked. "And Nora?"

The machine gurgled, and began pouring out a steady, steaming stream of dark, bitter liquid. "They're on a mission up north, at the moment. Last I saw them, though, they were the same as always. Nora was Nora, and Ren…"

"Yeah," Blake said tiredly. "Got it."

Yang looked between the two women, noting their grim expressions but saying not a word. She didn't have any clue what was going on with Ren. Besides, she had enough of her own problems to deal with. There was another stretch of silence until the bathroom door crashed open, and a blur of blond and white flew into the bedroom. Despite the whole 'being engaged to Pyrrha' thing, it seemed Jaune was still an awkward idiot, and Yang felt the corners of her mouth lift up a bit. Good to see some things never change.

"I think that's the first real smile I've seen from you in years," Blake commented in a soft voice, and Yang's head whipped around. The faunus was staring at her, a smile of her own gracing her face.

"Yeah," Yang whispered, glancing down at the forest green tablemat in front of her, "I guess it is." Her partner reached over and gently took ahold of her hand under the table. Yang made no attempt to stop her. It was comforting, and she wouldn't even bother trying to deny it. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions for her, an unruly, impassible storm that beat, battered, and bruised her. Through it all, though, there had been Blake. Strong and steady, a lifeline. Yang knew that from here on out was going to be no easy journey either, and that she'd need all the help she could get. The amount of strength she drew just from holding Blake's hand was immeasurable, and she found herself gripping just a bit tighter.

She was shaken from her musings as a mug touched down in front of her, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting into her nostrils.

"One black as sin coffee," Pyrrha announced cheerily as she returned to her seat, another glass set on the table before her.

Yang murmured a quick "thanks" before taking a large gulp of the scalding liquid.

"How can you stand that?" Blake asked.

"What?"

"Drinking it when it's that hot!"

Yang shrugged. "It's just never really bothered me."

"Doesn't it, I don't know, burn?"

"Takes a bit more than that to burn me, Blake." _Like a psychopathic pyromancer._ Her right arm gave a dull throb of pain, but she ignored it. The old wound acted up every once and a while; she had long since gotten used to it.

"I forgot you drank coffee like an insane person," a new voice cut in, and they looked up to see Jaune once more emerging from the bedroom, this time thankfully dressed in a pair of jeans. He was finishing pulling a plain black t-shirt down over his torso as he walked over to them. Pyrrha wordlessly handed him the second mug, and he accepted it with a smile and a chaste kiss. Pyrrha had other plans, though, tangling her hand in his still-damp hair and pulling him further down into the kiss.

"Are they always like this?" Yang questioned in a voice just loud enough for them to hear.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"…and you've put up with this for _how_ long?"

The two finally broke apart, Jaune with a dazed, stupid grin and Pyrrha with that same self-satisfied look from earlier. "Blow it, Yang," she said, and Yang fumbled to find a response to that, not used to Huntress using such abrasive words.

"Has Weiss been rubbing off on you?"

"Pretty sure any 'rubbing off' she does nowadays is with her bodyguard," Blake murmured.

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing, anyway, now that I have you both here-"

"Hold on a minute, Blake," Jaune cut her off. He had taken the seat to the right of Pyrrha, who was at the head of the table, and was staring intently at Yang. His face was serious, and Yang didn't know what to make of that. Jaune Arc with a serious expression was something she had never really experienced. He had always been a bit of a goofy dork before the Siege, but she could see from just his face that her earlier assessment had been off. While some traits of his teenage years may have remained, he had grown up, and more than just physically.

"Yang," he started, voice level, and Yang flinched, her hand tightening around Blake's. She found herself unable to meet his gaze. Jaune had always had kind eyes. It had been one of the things Yang had always liked most about him. No matter what was going on, or what happened, those sapphire irises had always been warm and honest. She didn't wish to see them fill with anger and disdain now. She wasn't really sure she could handle that right now. The huntsman opened his mouth to speak, and Yang braced herself for the scathing tirade she was sure would follow.

"Welcome back."

The brawler's head snapped up so fast Blake was worried she'd get whiplash. "Wh-What?" she stuttered. She was amazed to find that Jaune's eyes showed none of the heated disappointment she had been expecting. Instead, they were filled with gentle warmth, and his face displayed a large smile.

"Welcome back, Yang," he repeated, and Yang found herself at a loss for words.

"Th…thanks," she murmured hesitantly. She felt Blake squeeze her hand, and looked over to see the faunus grinning at her. Yang couldn't believe this. Jaune and Pyrrha had accepted her back with not a single word of complaint. After what she had done, leaving them all behind, they still welcomed her back with open arms.

It _hurt_. Not in the horrible, empty way that Ruby's death did. Nor in the way the seared flesh on her arm had. No, this was...relieving, _cathartic._ It was like a purge. She hadn't realized it until now, but she had missed this, missed _them_. And to have them invite her back into their lives without any sort of hesitation inspired a great wave of emotion. Her chest felt tight, but she couldn't deny the warmth welling in her stomach and spreading through her limbs.

"It's good to see you, too, Blake."

"And you, Jaune."

"Anyway," the blond motioned with a hand, "I'm sorry for interrupting, please continue." He lifted his mug to his mouth.

Blake gave him a smile. That was Jaune for you. Dense as a brick, but so sweet and sincere it was almost painful. He probably had absolutely no idea how much those few words he had directed at Yang had impacted her, but Blake did. She could see just how much it meant to her partner. Between the smiling earlier, and the range of emotions she saw flashing through her lilac eyes now, Blake put to bed the last of her doubts about bringing Yang along. Consequences be damned, she had made the right decision. They still had another shot at Roman anyway, and to be honest, she wasn't sure if she'd really care if they didn't, if it meant Yang continued on the path she seemed to be on. Pyrrha noticed what Jaune had unintentionally accomplished too, and placed a hand on his arm, beaming at him.

"Anyway, yes," Blake said, causing the attention to focus back to her, "the reason we're here. I know you two know that I had a mission this week." They nodded, and she continued, "What you don't know was the objective of that mission. To infiltrate the village of Ashfall, on Vacuo, and capture Roman Torchwick." The mug Jaune was in the middle of lifting slipped from his hand. Fortunately, Pyrrha's reflexes kicked in and she caught it before it smashed on the tabletop.

"Roman?" Jaune asked, voice stunned and disbelieving. "You _found_ him?"

"We got lucky. Picked up a message from an outpost on Patch last week. Traced it back to Ashfall. Ozpin got an operation together immediately and assigned me. I would have told you guys, but Ozpin told me to keep it strictly to Beacon operatives only."

Pyrrha's eyes slid to Yang. "So that's why…" her attention returned to Blake. "So, what happened?"

Blake sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Frankly put, we failed." Yang flinched and averted her eyes to the floor. "Roman got away with three airships full of Dust, and almost managed to kill us by calling a pack of Beowolves. Fortunately, I got a tracking device on his ship. He's gone to Atlas."

"Weiss," Jaune said.

"Ozpin's already contacted her, but he recommended I grab you guys as well. What do you say? You in?"

The two Beacon graduates looked at each other, and an unspoken message passed between them. Jaune knocked off the rest of his coffee and set the glass back down. "When do we leave?"

Blake smiled. "Tomorrow morning. We'll take the _Shadowswift._ Meet us at the docks by ten."

He nodded. "I'll need to run my armor by the forges today then. Fix up the dent that Deathstalker put in it."

"And I need to switch in for my winter core. My leg's been acting up recently anyway, and it'll only get worse up in Atlas," Pyrrha said. She noticed Yang giving her the same confused look from earlier. "Oh, right, I guess you wouldn't know." She slid from her seat, her hands going to unfasten her jeans.

"Pyrrha, please," Blake held up a hand. "I'm flattered, but shouldn't we at least wait until later? I mean, you fiancé is _right there_."

"Oh don't mind him," Pyrrha fired back in sultry voice, throwing in a wink that probably would have given most men a heart attack.

"H-Hey!" Jaune spluttered.

Pyrrha rolled her eyes. "Oh, relax, Jaune. I'm just showing Yang my leg." She shimmied her jeans down to her ankles while Jaune grumbled to himself.

Yang gaped at Pyrrha's exposed skin. Well, mostly skin. Her left leg included quite a bit of something that was distinctly not flesh. The outside of the entire limb was almost entirely made of metal, from her thigh down to her ankle. A strip of aquamarine light ran the length of it, and she could see some smaller channels of light feeding off it and out over the whole device, like circuitry. The whole thing was the color of tarnished gold. There was some scar tissue around the edges, but for the most part, the mechanical was grafted seamlessly into the organic.

"What…" was about all Yang could manage, but it seemed to be enough, as Pyrrha answered anyway.

"Remember that injury I got from the explosion Jaune and I got caught in during the Siege?" Yang nodded numbly. "Well, it did quite a number on me, primarily my leg. There was no way I could've continued to be a Huntress, as torn up as it was. So much of my muscle was shredded, and we won't even talk about my tendons and ligaments. Anyway, Weiss pulled some serious strings, and set me up with an experimental prosthetic program. They carved out all the useless bits, and replaced them all with this guy." She bent it a few times, and Yang marveled at its apparent flexibility.

"Does it function like a, you know, normal leg?"

"For the most part. It's a bit stiff sometimes, especially come winter, and there's a still a few kinks they have to work out. I have to go in for checkups every now and again, and when the temperature drops I have to pop out the dust core for one that will keep the circuitry from freezing up. I lose a bit of speed, but it's worth it."

"Pyrrha, that's…" Yang didn't know what word best fit here. Incredible? Morbid? Cool? Awful? She went with a profound, "Wow."

"Right?" Jaune interjected, standing and moving to wrap his arms around Pyrrha's waist. "My wife's a _cyborg_. How awesome is that?"

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes. "Your _fiancé_, I think is what you meant to say. You're not out of the woods yet, Arc."

"Good thing I like the woods then." He leaned down and captured her lips again, cutting off her retort.

"Okay, well, before Yang and I get a full crash course on 'shit we don't need to see,' I think we're gonna head out," Blake interrupted the couple before they could get carried away. She stood from her seat, and Yang did the same.

"You sure?" Pyrrha asked. "There's an empty room here, we wouldn't mind having you."

"No, thank you, Pyrrha. For now, at least, I think staying on campus might be a bit much," she glanced sideways at Yang, who looked thankfully relieved. She stepped forward and embraced the crimson-haired woman tightly. "We'll see you tomorrow." As she moved to hug Jaune, Pyrrha stepped up to her partner.

"It was really, really wonderful to see you again, Yang." She wrapped her arms around the blonde's shoulders, and Yang weakly returned the gesture.

Jaune came over next, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "It's good to have you back," he said simply with a smile, and Yang could only offer a nod, still completely blown away by the two of them.

They exchanged last goodbyes, and Blake and Yang departed the warmth of the dorm, stepping out into the chilling early winter air once more.

"So…where now?"

The brunette brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Back to my place. C'mon."

* * *

Blake took a heavy drag from the cigarette and exhaled. The past few days had frayed her nerves more than a bit, and with everything happening so fast, she hadn't really found time to partake in her little calming ritual. The nicotine coursed through her system, soothing some of the more intense anxiety pulsing through her body.

"Oh, I see how it is," came a familiar voice behind her, and she glanced over from her position leaning against the balcony railing to see Yang standing in the doorway to the inside of her apartment with her arms crossed. "I can't drink, but you can light up whenever you see fit." Yang found it was getting easier and easier to talk to Blake.

The faunus turned back to the sky and pulled the cigarette from her lips. "I don't get intoxicated from smoking. Thought you were asleep?"

"Turns out I'm not so good at that these days."

Blake wordlessly held out the pack to her left, the butt of one of the cigarettes poking out. Yang glanced at it and shrugged, grabbing it as she joined her partner on the stone balustrade. Before she could even ask, an old lighter swung into view, and Blake flicked it open with ease. She struck the flint and a flame burst to life. Yang moved her face close to the fire, inhaling deeply when the cigarette finally lit. The blonde closed her eyes and savored the rough burning sensation in her throat. She didn't make a habit of this, but sometimes it was really relaxing.

Both of them stared up at the sky in silence for a while, nothing but the sounds of the city and acrid smell of smoke to interrupt them.

"It feels like we've been here before," Yang commented quietly.

Blake laughed lightly. "The moon was green then, if I recall correctly." She took another drag before adding, "Do you remember what I told you then?"

"'I'm not going anywhere,' wasn't it?"

She hummed an affirmation, before leaning over and resting her head on Yang's shoulder. "I meant it," she stated simply.

"I know…you're still here." Yang's hand tentatively sought out Blake's, and the faunus gladly met her halfway.

"Told you."

Together they watched the night sky until long after their cigarettes had ashed, and for the first time in four years, Blake found that she didn't mind the cold so much.

* * *

**A/N: **WRITING PYRRHA IS SO MUCH FUUUUUUUUUN, hahah

So what'd we all think? Got some adorable little Arkos in there, and look, the pain is at a bare minimum, if it's even there at all! And even an explanation on Pyrrha's leg! I'm being so good to you guys this time

This chapter was actually supposed to cover both these events and the next chapter's as well, but it seems that the more I write this story, the more fleshed out it becomes, and suddenly I'm thousands of words in and nowhere near where I thought I was going to be on the outline. But hey, that's a good thing! More story! Whooo!

Also, guys, I love you. Seriously. Like, holy hell. This is only chapter 9, and I've already broken 100 reviews and a 100 follows?! That's just, asjandkjhskjdhaksjdh *melts into an appreciative, unworthy puddle*

You guys are amazing, thank you so, so much for you support


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